Blood Moon
by Scribbler
Summary: Sephiroth is a vampire. Zack is a werewolf. Cloud is the human caught between them. In an alternate universe where magic is real, vampirism a disease and science a tool used by madmen to 'fix' defective people, Zack struggles to save those he loves from Shinra, including the newly bloodthirsty Silver General and a mentor whose 'angel wings' may be exactly that. Zerith Cloti CissZac
1. First Blood

**Disclaimer****: **Mystically not mine.

**A/N****:** Started as a drabble, continued as catharsis. Yes, yes, I know, vampires are boring and everywhere at the moment. Consider this my addition to an overly-loved cliché. The dialogue from this first chapter is influenced (and sometimes quoted) from both the game _Crisis Core_ and the OVA _Last Order_.

Feedback is appreciated, loved, cherished and begged for.

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><p><em><strong>Blood Moon<strong>_

© Scribbler, September 2011.

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><p><strong>1. First Blood<strong>

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><p>"Sephiroth!"<p>

Zack's shout echoed across the chamber. He braced himself, both hands wrapped around the Buster Sword. Sephiroth was across the miniscule conduit-bridge, but Zack knew from years spent around him that the Silver General was fast. It didn't matter that Sephiroth didn't turn at his shout; it would take less than a blink for him to get over here. Last week that wouldn't have been a problem. He and Zack were colleagues – even friends. They had a healthy respect for each other and the world around them. A week ago, Zack would not have faced Sephiroth with blade drawn outside a sparring match.

A week ago Sephiroth wouldn't have killed en entire village and set fire to the remains.

"Why?" Zack demanded. "Why did you do it?"

Sephiroth still didn't turn. He ran a hand lovingly over the metalwork suspended on a platform in the middle of the chamber. Above him read the legend: JENOVA.

"What's wrong with you?" Zack insisted. His hair smelled of smoke and charred flesh. He could still hear the screams of the dying and see bodies sprawled throughout the streets they had walked down only days ago. "Why did you kill all those people? Why did you set fire to their homes?" He thought of the girl on the stairs only a few feet away. She had done nothing more heinous than show them around and try to help them in their investigation. "Why did you hurt Tifa? Tell me, Sephiroth. Tell me!"

"Mother," Sephiroth murmured. Anyone without SOLDIER-enhanced senses would not have been able to hear him.

Zack froze. Confusion rattled through him, along with a seed of dread. It was only one word, but the way Sephiroth said it gave him chills. "What?"

"Let's take this planet back together," Sephiroth said.

"Take back the planet? Sephiroth, what are you talking about? Sephiroth!"

"I wasn't talking to you. Mother was supposed to rule this world. She had the superior strength. She had the power and will to make it happen." Sephiroth bent forward, touching his forehead to the figure. "But those worthless fools were afraid of her."

Dismay rose in Zack like bile. _No_, he thought. _It can't be. Not him. _

With some of that legendary speed, Sephiroth grabbed the metalwork and tore it away. "Come with me!" He held out his arms to the glass cylinder it had concealed. Broken pipes belched steam and other noxious fumes. Hoses writhing around him like dying eels. Blue jolts of electricity spangled the air. Sephiroth didn't appear to notice any of it. He was totally focussed on the pale blue figure in the cylinder. "Mother …"

Zack adjusted his grip on his sword. Jenova's fangs were prominent. It was the work of a moment to cross the divide and level his blade at the side Sephiroth's neck, where the jugular pulsed. Zack could see it beneath Sephiroth's skin. He held onto a desperate hope that he was wrong, despite his friend's words.

He lowered his voice so he wasn't yelling. He tried to modulate his tone too. This was _Sephiroth_, hero to millions, all around good guy and rescuer of Zack's own miserable life. Once upon a time, Zack would have died on a lonely night in the woods outside Gongaga, or in the days afterward, if not for Sephiroth. He couldn't just write him off without investigating what was wrong. "What happened to you?"

The eyes that looked sideways at him were red, not green. When Sephiroth spoke, Zack could see his canines were elongated and sharp. "I'm awake," he said softly. "I've finally awakened to my birthright."

"No." Zack shook his head. "No, this isn't you."

Who in town could have done it? The vampire infestation was widespread, but Nibelheim was clean; all the reports said so. It was remote and far away from most cities, where close-quarters increased the likelihood of infection. Shinra had sent them out here with excessive documentation to say the little mountain town was human-only. Besides, even if a single vamp had made it in, Sephiroth could have stopped it biting him. He was _trained _for it. The virus was spread through saliva, which meant vamps had to get close enough to sink their teeth into you. With Masamune and his lightning reflexes, no way could they latch onto Sephiroth long enough to draw blood. He still had a pulse, for Ifrit's sake! He _wasn't_ a vampire!

"This is me," Sephiroth said. "The real me. Her blood is my blood. Her strength is my strength. Her powers have always been inside me. Now they've awakened." He smiled. It was the single most terrifying thing Zack had ever seen. "I'm going to remake the world for her."

"You can't," Zack said.

He didn't know everything, but he knew enough: how Jenova was the original source of the virus; how it had been dormant for thousands of years until it resurfaced recently; how Shinra scientists were looking for a cure that wasn't sunlight, decapitation or a wooden stake through the heart. Zack _hadn't_ known Jenova's corpse was here. He hadn't even known Shinra possessed it, though it made sense. A crude stake, constructed from what looked like a primitive spear, jutted from her chest. As if that wound wasn't enough, the rest of her pale blue body was also studded with broken off spears, javelins and arrows. Apparently the original was tougher than her descendants

"You don't have any bite marks."

"I wasn't bitten," Sephiroth said. "I wasn't _made_, I was _born_." He shifted his gaze back to the dead vampire. "I was born from her, for her, and now I'm going to do what I was born for. This is her world. Its people are her people. They just don't know it yet."

"Please, Sephiroth, don't do this." Zack's fingers cramped. "You know I'll have to fight you if you do. We're SOLDIERs. We fight vampires."

Sephiroth looked at him with disdain. It wasn't the look of the man Zack knew. "Traitor," Sephiroth said simply, and attacked.

The fight was short and brutal. Zack found himself on the defensive almost instantly. Partly he was reluctant to unleash fully on his friend, but that was quickly subsumed by the simple fact that Sephiroth was better than he was. He had always been the best the SOLDIER programme had to offer, but he and Zack had pretty much broken even in sparring matches. This was a new level of skill, speed and strength. The powers of the vampire added to Sephiroth's own innate abilities, plus the enhancements given by mako treatments, were astonishing. Soon Zack fought in earnest, holding nothing back. He remained on the back foot. Their acrobatics sent them around the chamber like pinballs in a machine, coming together with the clash of steel on steel, before shooting away again. Sparks strafed the air. Dents appeared in pipes ostensibly with nobody touching them.

A line of pain blazed across Zack's belly. Sephiroth had drawn first blood. Zack spiralled away, swinging his sword one-handed, but Sephiroth kept coming at him. The attack was quick-fire and relentless. Zack's left foot slipped and he somersaulted into empty air. He tried to turn the fall into a dive, aiming for the platform near the entrance. While he was still airborne Sephiroth appeared beside him. He batted so hard with his fist, Zack bounced right through the entrance and ploughed into one of the containment units outside. The force embedded him deep into the metal. He sat there, warped metal digging into his back and sides, stunned and reeling.

Boots landed and clomped towards him. His vision was full of flickering black and white dots. He struggled to get up, but something was wrong with his legs. They didn't respond the way they should. His lower back screamed and his ears hammered with his own pulse.

_Did he do that much damage in just one strike?_ "Y-You're not … the Sephiroth … I know …" he wheezed.

The boots paused in their approach. "I am the chosen one," Sephiroth said with pride. "I have been chosen to rule this planet."

Zack wasn't afraid of many things. Once upon a time, one night in particular, he had felt fear enough to freeze his mind and shut down his body, but since joining SOLDIER the number of things he feared had shrunk. Fear of dying had dwindled most of all. You couldn't help feeling invincible when you were pumped full of mako.

Right now he was terrified – not for himself, but for his friend and what had happened to him. He blinked up at the man he had shared a meal with only the night before. Sephiroth had stolen his soda bread. Zack had hidden his spoon in retaliation so he couldn't eat his broth. The innkeeper had watched them with a smile, but Tifa, their guide, had laughed openly and given Sephiroth her spoon instead. They had been so happy. Sephiroth had been almost playful – something his enemies, plus half the people at Shinra, never would have believed. What had happened to change him? How had it come to this?

Sephiroth raised Masamune, but stopped. He lowered the katana with a shake of his head. "Killing you now would serve no purpose." He sheathed the blade and hunkered down next to Zack, either knowing he was incapacitated or not caring that he might strike out again. "Mother and I will need strong warriors to fight for us and spread her gift to every insignificant soul on this corrupt little world."

Zack saw what was coming and put on an extra burst of strength. For a moment he was sixteen years old again. He swung a punch, but Sephiroth pinned his arm against the crumpled metal. A shard jabbed right through Zack's bicep. He cried out in agony. It took a lot of force to puncture a SOLDIER's skin.

Sephiroth's eyes widened at the spurt of blood that hit him in the face. His canines lengthened even further and his eyes became so red they were almost black. Zack tried to kick out, but he couldn't feel anything below his waist. Sephiroth wrapped his glove around Zack's throat and made to hoist him up. He only stopped when his midriff exploded in a shower of blood and gore.

At least, that was what it looked like from Zack's point of view. He stared as the red spray resolved itself into a rectangular chunk of metal, which wedged in the walkway between them. Sephiroth stared down in genuine shock. He looked over his shoulder. Zack followed his gaze to the figure holding tight to the abandoned Buster Sword.

"C-Cloud …" Zack choked out.

He must have dropped the sword when Sephiroth sent him out here. Cloud had seen an opportunity while Sephiroth was distracted, picked it up and done what Zack could not. Sephiroth was impaled and anchored to the floor.

Zack found it difficult to breathe, but managed to say, "Cloud, r-run! He's … not … human …" Metal wouldn't stop a vampire until it was used to separate the head from the body. Cloud couldn't have seen Sephiroth's face from that angle, had not seen the red eyes or fangs and so couldn't have known that just stabbing him wouldn't stop him. "Run … Cloud …"

"He took away my village," Cloud said in a strangled voice. "He killed my mother and hurt Tifa. He burned everything – _everyone_! They weren't all dead. They burned to death because of him! They burned to death and they _screamed_ –"

"Insignificant worm," Sephiroth snarled, cutting him off.

Impossibly fast for someone weighed down by a massive sword, he whipped out a fist and struck Cloud. Zack heard ribs crack as Cloud flew backwards. He cannoned into the doorframe of Jenova's chamber and slumped. Zack hoped he was just out cold. Cloud was an unenhanced human. His body could take much less punishment.

As if it was nothing, Sephiroth released Zack and stood, using the momentum of the movement to wrench the Buster Sword from the walkway. Unable to reach the hilt, he pressed the flats of both hands against the blade and forced it out backwards. It clanged to the floor behind him, followed by a wash of thick, reddish-black blood. Sephiroth turned and started walking towards Cloud.

_Cloud,_ Zack thought, hazy with pain. "Cl …" He couldn't even get out the whole syllable.

_**Change**_, whispered a voice in the back of his mind. The order was implacable. The pain radiating through his body made it easy to ignore or write off as the delirium talking.

For the first time, Sephiroth wavered. He may have been far more than just human now, able to withstand far more damage, but even he could only take so much. Nearly being gutted was high on the list of Things That Might Actually Kill The Silver General. He stumbled and fell to one knee.

"Collaborator," he rasped at Cloud. "You don't deserve a place in our new world." He got to his feet with difficulty and stumbled forward. Cloud wasn't exactly a heavyweight, but Sephiroth picked him up with ridiculous ease. He clamped his hands on Cloud's elbows, pinning his arms to his sides and lifting him up.

Cloud's head flopped back, exposing his neck. He moved bonelessly but a groan showed he was still alive. He even tried to struggle a little. Zack's whole body went cold at the sight.

"But you can still serve a purpose," Sephiroth went on. "You can replace the blood you made me lose."

_No!_

Enough lives had been lost today and enough blood had been spilled. Zack couldn't lose Cloud too. He wouldn't. He refused!

He had joined the SOLDIER programme to get stronger, so he could fight the vampires. He hadn't lied on the application forms. He hadn't lied to anyone. He hadn't knowingly concealed anything. Zack's secret didn't show up in any blood-work or aptitude tests. No scientist or psychologist had detected anything different about the eager boy who so wanted to join Shinra's elite.

He had lost control last time. When he realised what had happened, he had promised he would never do it again, and worked to become stronger so he never would. Angeal, Shinra and SOLDIER had taught him the self-discipline to keep his instincts in check. If Angeal had suspected something wasn't right about his pupil, he had never pushed the issue. Now, however, Zack had no choice. He had to save Cloud.

Greyish-black hair sprouted all over his body. Zack's back arched as bones reversed inside him. His musculature stretched and twisted into unnatural shapes. His clothing ripped. Internal organs slurped, rerouting, shrinking, expanding and disappearing altogether as his whole body changed. Zack spasmed like he was being repeatedly electro-shocked. The pain was nearly unbearable. Last time that had driven his conscious mind into hiding and left him nearly comatose afterwards.

But Zack had lived a whole life between that moment and this one.

Sephiroth jerked in shock at the howl, but didn't have time to react before a shape hurtled into his side, knocking Cloud out of his grasp. Sephiroth teetered on the edge of the walkway. With a grunt he righted himself and stared at the enormous black wolf now planted between him and the bleeding boy.

_**Can't have. **_Thethoughts came fragmentally. _**No. Brother. Kin. Go away. Bite you. Kill you. Make you dead.**_

"A … werewolf?" Sephiroth stammered.

His entire chest rumbled with warning. He was moving fine now – better than fine. Shifting healed him, but he paid the price by losing all but a few vestiges of rational thought. He clung to the reason he had transformed, hoping they would keep him connected with his humanity. He crouched low, the smell of blood thick in his nostrils. The enemy's mouth and chin were stained red.

_**Too late.**_ _**Not fast enough.**_

"You're a _werewolf_?" Sephiroth echoed incredulously. Instead of fear, a wide smile spread across his face.

His higher brain functions weren't operating fully in this form, but he knew that wasn't a good thing.

"A traitor all around," Sephiroth said.

Cloud's neck was an open wound. Blood continued to pool around him, spreading and sinking into the grooves of the corrugated floor. The smell of fresh death made every strand of fur stand on end. This wasn't the death of prey; this was family. He took a step towards Sephiroth, still snarling.

_**Failed**__**pack-brother. Punish. Enemy. Vengeance.**_

Sephiroth stared a moment longer, still wearing that alarming smile. It was as if he knew the punch-line to a joke nobody had told yet. He sprang to his feet, rejuvenated by the blood he had taken from Cloud, and bounded into Jenova's chamber. The jingle of breaking glass resounded through the door, followed by a hideous, acrid stench. The stink of rotting flesh and chemicals made a sensitive nose sting even at this distance. Sephiroth reappeared, Jenova's severed head dangling from his hand.

"You're both traitors to Mother's vision for this world. You're abominations, and you must be terminated!"

If Zack had been thinking clearly, or thinking at all, he may have countered that with a witty retort. In his current state, he just perceived the threat and launched himself at it. He was Alpha Wolf. He could take on a vampire. He had the bulk, teeth and claws to rip an enemy's head right off its body.

Brute strength was his specialty. Forward planning was not.

One moment Masamune was in its scabbard; the next, Sephiroth had the blade pointing at him. He twisted away, but still received a strike along his flank. He roared in pain and rage. His paws had barely touched down before he was jumping back into the fray. His jaws ached for Sephiroth's soft throat. He managed to strike so hard that Sephiroth was knocked onto his back. Strong jaws snapped, but Sephiroth twisted despite the awkward position. He slammed the butt of his katana into the wolf's soft gut hard enough to send him crashing against the wall.

It continued this way for several minutes, two predators dealing and taking damage that would have killed a regular human. Alpha's jaws became speckled with pink froth. Masamune glimmered scarlet.

_**Failed! Pack-brother! Punish! Enemy! Vengeance!**_

Finally, the wolf skimmed over the edge of the walkway. He dug his claws in, creating divots in the steel. No ordinary wolf could have stopped itself that way. It was the action of someone who remembered having arms and opposable thumbs. He clung there, hind legs pedalling empty air furiously.

Sephiroth towered over him. Unbelievably, he had kept hold of Jenova's head throughout their battle. An engorged purple tongue jutted between her blue lips. He panted, voice gargling as the furrows clawed across his collarbone and cheek tried to heal. His handsome face was now pitted and twisted with the battle-lines of hatred and cruelty.

He raised his katana. "There is … no place … for your kind … in the world … I'll build for –"

The wolf mind wasn't fully aware of what happened next. Zack guessed it from the sensations that followed: the swoosh of air, a body flying over him, a flare of something hitting the mako reactor's core, and the feel of hands gripping his forelegs. Someone hauled him back onto the platform, where he sprawled, panting and frantically scenting the air. His muscles trembled with exertion and adrenaline still flooding his system.

"We did it," Cloud whispered. He was on his hands and knees. "We actually did it."

Had Cloud pushed Sephiroth off the platform? Everything from ears to tail shuddered from pain and the certainty that here was another enemy. Cloud's scent was wrong. It made the wolf's hackles rise. One lip curled in a half-snarl, even as the bit that was Zack, not Alpha Wolf, protested that this was _Cloud_.

"Zack?" Cloud's voice was uncertain. "That … is you in there, isn't it?"

_**Enemy! **_

_No!_ Zack thought. _Enemy gone. This is … _His fragmented mind searched for the right way to put it. _Pack-brother. Safe. _

_**Smells bad. Like enemy. Make enemy dead. **_

"Zack?" Cloud sounded even more uncertain, and also in pain. He raised a hand to his throat. "I don't … I don't feel so … good …"

_No!_

Gratefully, he felt his muzzle begin the shrink away and his tail recede. His skin prickled where coarse hair retreated back into the follicles. His sense of smell dimmed as his ability to see a broader spectrum of colours returned.

"Za –" Cloud blinked his red eyes once and collapsed.

When he was still only halfway through his transformation, Zack had to stop. He couldn't move. He was healed, but so exhausted he literally couldn't move. Every nerve cell in him tingled and his mind whirred with a thousand unwelcome thoughts and recollections of the last time he felt like this. He could barely process everything that had happened, much less force his aching body to finish the change. His vision swirled and a creeping darkness stole away every sensation, one by one. He couldn't feel the cold metal beneath his bare skin. He couldn't hear the drone of the reactor. He couldn't even hear Cloud's breathing. Was Cloud breathing? Was Cloud … dead? Had he really risen up to save Zack and kill the Silver General, or had that just been a hallucination created by his own mind as it refused to accept his friend's death?

_Too slow_, Zack thought. _I was … too slow … I'm sorry … Cloud …_

And then there was only oblivion.

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><p><em>The sky burned purple and red with the flames left by the fireball. It had fallen to earth days ago, but the horizon had remained a boiling mass of flame and cloud ever since. The humans were all frightened and hiding in their caves and mud huts, leaving the magical races to defend them against the calamity that had fallen from the heavens but brought only hell. If you looked hard enough, you could convince yourself there were faces in the sky, watching their preparations and laughing. <em>

_The hills overlooking the crater were just far enough for the grass not to be scorched, but close enough that the hot air dried out your eyeballs and made your hair drift in the updraft. People continued to gather, but nobody moved forward. An expectant atmosphere pervaded them. Milling groups whispered and wondered about what they were doing._

"_Do we have to?"_

"_Why us?"_

"_Why not the humans?"_

"_We're stronger than them, that's why."_

"_They're nothing but savages."_

"_But we're not all warriors. Why should we all have to fight?"_

"_The call said everyone had to come."_

"_Everyone able-bodied and willing. I'm not willing!"_

"_Then why are you here?"_

"_Because … because I couldn't not be here."_

"_Isn't there another way? There has to be some other way!"_

"_I'm scared."_

_The crater simmered with dark energy. Coils and wisps leaked over the sides, reaching across the lifeless, charred ground. It was looking for food. It was looking for __**them**__. A few incautious youngsters had tried to attack it already, using their magic to get safely across the wasteland the impact had created, only to be caught and drained like flies in a spider's web when they got too close to the edge. Their shrivelled husks had turned to dust and blown away on the warm breeze. That memory seethes through everyone, feeding their fear. They don't want to be here. _

_The sky briefly lit up in a flash of brilliant white. It might have been a beam of sunlight cutting through the clouds, but it was night. Everyone looked up. Even the dark energy threaded upward, as if it could sense new sources of power to be drained and used as fuel. _

_As if on cue, smaller puffs of light and shadow erupted across the hillside. A few of the crowd squealed. Things took shape amongst them; a menagerie of feathers, paws, claws, snouts, tails, beaks and tufts of fur. Glittering smoke became tufted ears. Vapour reformed into wings. Green mist took on the contours of creatures that were familiar and yet not; solid but insubstantial. You could see through each one but you knew without doubt that they were really there. _

_A particularly large creature stepped forward. Whether by size, age or strength, it seemed to be the leader of the newcomers. At least, none of them contradicted on interrupted when it spoke._

"_**We have come."**_

_The thing made of light from the sky landed in front of it. Like the creatures, the light reformed into figure, which stood taller and prouder than the other humanoids around it. A different kind of magic surrounded him; older and stronger. This was a proven warrior. _

_The creature held its gaze. __**"Not your fight."**_

"_This is everyone's fight."_

"_**Not yours."**_

"_This isn't an enemy like any you've fought before. You need all the help you can get."_

"_**Spirits always enough before."**_

"_Not this time. Too much is at stake."_

"_**Speak for them?"**__ The creature tipped its head at the trembling crowd. _

"_We're here to help save everyone and everything on this world."_

"_**Answer without answering," **__it scoffed. __**"Should expect from you. Tricky. Not human. Not elf. Not trustworthy. Have no stake. Not from this world. Why care about it?"**_

"_This world is my home now. I will fight to protect it."_

_The creature tipped its head to the other side, assessing. __**"Truth?"**_

"_Yes."_

"_**Sacrifice."**_

"_It's worth it." The figure drew a weapon that looked like something magic-blind humans would wield, but which glowed with power twice as strong as that of the elves around them. "This world is worth fighting for."_

_After a pregnant pause, the creature nodded. __**"Fight together."**_

_The figure nodded back and turned to face the darkness. _

"_**Rip you to pieces if fail."**_

"_Perfect," muttered a voice above them. "Why did I let you talk me into this?"_

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><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_


	2. Thicker Than Blood

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><p><strong>2. Thicker Than Blood<strong>

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><p>The reactor buzzed with people. Tifa peeped around her boulder, wondering what she should do. Cloud had found her in the stairwell and brought her out here to keep her safe. He had gone back inside after making sure she was okay, and though some part of her pain-fogged brain had shrieked that he was going exactly where Sephiroth had gone. Cloud had promised he would return. He hadn't. Now dozens of Shinra flunkies were arriving in trucks. A bevy of white-coated men followed when they gave the 'all clear' sign.<p>

A strong hand grasped Tifa's shoulder. She swung out on instinct. Someone blocked her punch like she was a novice and twisted her arm up behind her back. It was lucky she hadn't been injured badly when she confronted Sephiroth. He could have killed her. She had, after all, got right up in his face after he had burned Nibelheim and its people to the ground. Instead, he had simply thrust her aside hard enough to crack her head against the metal stairs and knock her out. Sephiroth had been so focused on getting inside that reactor, she was less than insignificant to him.

"Shut up if you don't want to die," hissed a voice. It was deep but noticeably female. "I'm not here to hurt you, idiot girl. I'm here to save you."

Tifa stiffened. What was this woman twenty minutes ago? "Cloud – my friend – he went back inside. We have to help him –"

"It's too late for the grunt."

Tifa's eyes widened. "No." Her voice cracked on the word. Cloud couldn't be dead. He had come to save her, just like he promised. He couldn't pull off something like that and then just _die_.

"There's no point running in there in some half-assed rescue attempt. You'll either be shot on sight or Hojo will convince the higher-ups it would be in everyone's best interests to let him have you."

"What?"

"Nobody else survived. You're officially a specimen – you not only survived, you came into physical contact with the General. You'll disappear into the labs and never be heard of again. Is that what you want?"

Tifa shook her head. She was reeling from the thought that Cloud might be dead. Sephiroth, Shinra's hero, had killed him. She was struck by a melange of memories; times Cloud had clipped newspaper articles or kept flyers showing Sephiroth's picture to tempt people into working for Shinra. Cloud had hero-worshipped the man. The irony was bitter as vinegar on an open wound.

"Listen carefully," the woman growled. She pulled Tifa close to whisper into her ear from behind. "You need to run. You need to run fast and you need to run far. Get as many miles between you and this place as you can and don't look back."

"No!"

"Don't argue. Just do it."

"But –"

"If you stay, you're dead or worse."

"But who are –"

"Don't ask me who I am or why I'm letting you go. Accept that I'm not an enemy and do as I say. Escape while you still can, little girl. After what happened here tonight, all hell is about to break loose." She spoke with such grim certainty that Tifa couldn't help believing her. "You were damn lucky to make it out alive. You can't help your friend. He's beyond anyone's help now."

Tifa's arm was suddenly her own again. She turned to see a striking woman in a dark business suit. Her long loose hair might have been grey, but in the poor light it looked almost blue. Over the collar of her black suit showed a crisp white shirt and black tie knotted at her throat. The effect was one of formidable contradictions: her clothes said corporate executive, her hair said model, her stance said martial artist. Her expression said nothing at all. She showed less emotion than the rocks around her.

"Go," she ordered.

"Will anyone come after me?" Tifa demanded. "Will you?"

"If I'm ordered to. You just have to hope that doesn't happen. I'm showing mercy, little girl, which is unusual for me, but I won't contravene a direct order. Now go before I knock you out again and leave you for Professor Hojo's goons to find."

Tifa still couldn't accept what she was being told to do. Cloud had come for her when she needed him. She couldn't just abandon him in return. "I won't leave his body to be cut up by those –"

The woman's hand shot out. Tifa had been trained by Mast Zangan, who had called her the most promising pupil he had ever taught. She was something of a prodigy, unbested by anyone else in town. Despite this, she reeled back, clutching her shoulder.

"It's only dislocated," the woman said coolly. "Don't do anything stupid or I'll do the other side too, and I won't be so gentle a second time. Go."

Tifa stared, pain radiating from her shoulder in a nauseating wave. "Who _are_ you?"

"Nobody you need to know." The woman turned away. "You'd be advised to forget everything that happened here tonight." She glanced over her shoulder. "But I'm betting you won't. I've met lemmings like you before." she took a step and was gone, blending into the shadows as if she was one herself.

A mixture of confusion, grief and anger churned her gut. Her shoulder was hot with agony. It would be simple to fix herself, but that would make her scream. She couldn't be so near here when she did it.

Voices drifted to her from the trucks, fading in and out as the men weaved in and out of the haphazardly parked vehicles. "… Werewolf?"

"… all hairy … pointed ears …"

"… don't exist …"

"… just telling … what I _saw_, man …"

"But _him_?"

"Hey, if Sephiroth can become …"

"Don't even joke about that, dude."

"… all the guys are saying …"

"… quick way … fired … or worse."

"Whoops!"

"Be careful with that!" a very different voice snapped. It was nasal and imperious; the kind of voice that made your skin crawl and the roots of your hair try to turn in on themselves.

Tifa found herself gritting past the pain drawn to look once more around the boulder. What she saw made her heart stop. _Zack?_

The First Class SOLDIER had come to town with Sephiroth and, unbeknownst to her, also Cloud. Zack was friendly and likable, quick to laugh and quicker to smile. He had an easy kindness that could make anyone comfortable around him, no matter how they felt about Shinra. It was easy to forget nasty rumours about the company when Zack was their representative. Sephiroth may have been the glorified hero, but he was aloof and, through a combination of reputation and poor social skills, he came off as unapproachable when you talked to him. Zack was far more human. He had been kind to Tifa.

He must have followed her up the mountain when she chased after Sephiroth. She vaguely remembered a figure bending over her after Sephiroth threw her down the stairs, but it was hazy. She blinked, also remembering strong arms picking her up. She had thought they belonged to Cloud, but now she remembered already being outside when Cloud's voice brought her back to consciousness. Cloud had hidden her behind the rocky outcropping, with a perfect view of the reactor, but it must have been Zack who actually removed her from the building. She owed her life to both of them.

Zack was strapped to a stretcher. He had restraints around his arms, legs, neck, chest and waist. A strip of cloth had been draped over his hips to preserve his dignity, but that was all. Tattered strips of what could have been a sweater hung off his shoulders. He was blood-spattered but uninjured and his eyes were closed. If they had thought it necessary to restrain him, Tifa surmised, he couldn't be dead.

A man in a white coat smacked one of those holding the stretcher. "That's a very valuable specimen! Be more careful with it!"

"Yes, sir."

The man's eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. Tifa thought she had seen him before, though Shinra employees rarely came into Nibelheim proper. They preferred to stay at the mansion; as if consorting with rough village folk would somehow lower their IQ points. Even so, she was sure she recognised this guy. His greasy black hair sat on the back of his neck in a ponytail, while his voluminous lab-coat couldn't conceal a tall, thin frame. The wrinkles said he was old, but his body had the gawkiness of a teenager. He was a collection of contradictions.

"These two are irreplaceable," he said, almost reverently. "You idiots are not."

"Yes, sir."

Two? Another stretcher emerged from behind a truck as Zack's was loaded into the back of one.

If Tifa's heart had stopped when she saw Zack, now it exploded. Cloud's blond hair was unmistakable, which was lucky, as his face was so bloody it was difficult to make out his features in the poor light. His neck was a torn mess of meat. Unlike Zack, he was fully clothed but had been covered by a sheet that had obviously flopped down from his face. One of the men carrying him made gagging noises. Tifa held hers inside, along with her horror, as they covered Cloud's slack face up again. The second stretcher was loaded up and locked away behind a rolling metal shutter.

The man in the lab-coat patted the side of the truck, and then shook his hand as if to free it of dirt. He looked back at the reactor and murmured something Tifa couldn't hear. Shaking his head, he returned to the entrance. "Hold everything until I arrive," he barked at a flunky. "I have to finish up here, but then I'll be right along."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir," one man said nervously.

His companion shot him a warning look. "Don't do it, dude."

He didn't listen, though his voice shook a little. "I-Is it true what they're saying, sir?"

The man in the lab-coat gave them both a look that could have frozen steam off a hot-spring. "And what, pray tell, are the nebulous 'they' saying?"

"Um …" Committed now, the unfortunate flunky toyed with his helmet clasp. He wore the same kind as Cloud. It covered nearly all his face and obscured his identity totally. No wonder she hadn't recognised Cloud until he took his off. "That the General, um, had an episode and … uh … and set fire to the village."

The man in the lab-coat folded his arms. "What is the protocol if a large urban area is infected?"

"Sir?"

"You've been through basic training, haven't you?"

"Um, yes sir. Standard procedure is to isolate the vampires and terminate them, sir."

"And if the area is entirely infected?"

"You mean Nibelheim was a Red Zone, sir?"

"What." The words came out clipped and icy. "Is. Standard. Procedure?"

"To immolate by whatever means necessary, sir. If regular means prove ineffective, a surgical strike is recommended."

"In layman's terms, wipe out as many vampires as quickly as possible. Now, if you'll wrack that little pea-brain of yours, perhaps you can also tell me what methods are effective when terminating infected subjects?"

"Vampires are susceptible to staking, sunlight, decapitation, removal of the heart and … fire, sir."

"Good boy." The man in the lab-coat actually patted the flunky's helmet. Then he punched his exposed chin. Evidently there was a lot of anger behind that disdainful exterior. "Now get moving before I add you to the list of those missing."

"Thir! Yeth, thir!" The unfortunate drudge grabbed his friend and scuttled off.

"No!" Tifa hissed. Busted shoulder or not, she couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let those kinds of lies get out. Nibelheim had _not_ been totally infected! And she certainly couldn't let Cloud's body be spirited away to who-knew-where for who-knew-what_. _She had barely moved, however, when someone grabbed her from behind. Pain shot down her dislocated arm and opened into her chest, making her retch.

"I'm sorry, Tifa. I can't let you kill yourself like this," said a familiar baritone.

"Master Zangan?" A nerve in her neck pinched. Without another sound, Tifa fell into unconsciousness for the last time tonight.

* * *

><p>The Turk woman looked on dispassionately. "I didn't think she'd leave on her own."<p>

"You didn't have to hurt her," Zangan hissed. He gathered Tifa in his arms. She was so light. He could imagine how easily Sephiroth had hurt her, and how easily a volley of gunfire could kill her. Usually he had supreme confidence in his student, but not tonight. Tonight had already seen enough bloodshed and death. He wasn't willing to take the risk of losing Tifa, too.

"You did," the Turk acknowledged.

"She'll come round." Grudgingly, he added, "Thank you for bringing me to her."

The woman shrugged. "My remit was to keep causalities to a minimum."

Zangan gaped. "The entire village is dead!"

She shrugged again. Her callousness was stunning. "My remit only stretched to this immediate area."

Despite his gratitude, for a moment Zangan hated her. She represented everything that had gone wrong with Nibelheim since Shinra set up here. He shook the feeling off. Now was not the time. "Will you follow us?"

"No." Her gaze slid to the scene Tifa had been watching. "I have other orders."

"Do orders come before morals now?" he couldn't help sniping.

"Morality is a code set down by mankind to regulate behaviour. Orders are set down by my boss to regulate the behaviour of his employees. You do the math."

Zangan's teeth gritted. He felt something shift in his gums and unclenched before he broke something. "Will Shinra come after us?"

"Nobody but my boss and I know you were even here," she said without looking at him. "And frankly, I'm getting sick of you people hanging around where you're not wanted. Piss off already."

Zangan took his leave, heading into the mountains. Out there a native Nibelheimer like himself could survive for weeks off the land, but outsiders never ventured that far into the frozen wastes. The harsh landscape kept them out better than a barbwire fence.

The Turk shook her head. "Like lemmings," she murmured, putting them immediately out of mind. She didn't concern herself with whether they would be okay once they had left her. She wasn't paid to care about things like that.

She still had work to do tonight.

* * *

><p><strong><em>"The magic is dying."<em>**

**_"What?"_**

**_"The magic. Can't you feel the change? It's dying."_**

**_"It can't die. Magic is _****life_. The magic will only die when all life dies, and we fought to make sure that doesn't happen."_**

**_"It _****is_ dying. The elves are dying and the magic is going with them."_**

**_"That only means elf magic is dying, not all magic."_**

**_"The humans are replacing the elves."_**

**_"Not always. Some of the elves are mating with humans and hiding among them so they don't get hunted down and killed like their brothers and sisters."_**

**_"The humans don't have magic of their own."_**

**_"Some do."_**

**_"Tricks and sleights of hand; not true magic. That's why they have no connection with the Planet, and why the infected ones always sought out elves to drain instead of humans. Compared to elves, humans are deaf, blind and mute. Their magic isn't enough to keep us in the world."_**

**_"What?"_**

**_"We need magic to feed us – spiritual power, belief, faith, whatever you want to call it. Without it, we have no foothold in the mortal world. We may as well just be common ghosts."_**

**_"Ridiculous."_**

**_"That can't happen."_**

**_"Can it?"_**

**_"It can and it will. If the elves all die, we do too – ahh!"_**

_A gust of energy sprang up amidst the jittering, half-formed shapes. They squeaked and parted, allowing the much more powerful spirit to take form. It towered over them, narrowing eyes that weren't really eyes at all, but more the memory of yellow irises that had died millennia ago and the glint of black pupils that hadn't yet been born._

**_"Magic alive,"_**_ it said harshly. _

_One of the twirling balls of light hesitantly replied, **"B-But we've sensed it lessening since the Calamity was defeated and so many elves died–"**_

**_"Magic. Alive." _**_The newcomer was an old spirit; so old and seated in the animals it was totem for, it didn't use full sentences like those who had grown closer to mortals and more reliant on their prayers to survive. Spirits needed power to remain in the mortal realm. Lesser spirits used the power of belief. Stronger spirits could siphon power directly from mortals without draining them to death, the way the infected had during the war with the Calamity From the Skies. **"Elves live. Survive. Spirits survive."**_

**_"But–"_**

**_"You say magic life, but life magic. Find life to find magic. Find magic to find life for self."_**

**_"What?"_**

_The stronger spirit turned away from them, evidently assured it had made itself clear. The lesser spirits orbited uncertainly. They seemed like they wanted to follow it, but also like they were afraid to leave this spot. _

_On the other side of the veil, a group of humanoid figures gathered around an altar. Vaulted white ceilings arched above, but the wide space around them was practically empty of people. There used to be so many more who clasped their hands and invoked the ancient magics the way they were doing right now. Likewise, there used to be so many more spirits who could pass into the mortal world through portals created by the power of this kind of prayer. Just after the war, spirits could move freely from the astral plane to the mortal one. Now it was a struggle to find a place where enough elves prayed hard enough to create even a small portal. More and more, lesser spirits were finding they could look, but not touch. _

_The stronger spirit paused to look back at them crowding each other for a spot to pass through. It talked a good game, but it knew the truth: magic really was growing weaker everywhere. It was a good thing they had worked with the elves to defeat the Calamity and sealed its body deep below the Planet's surface. With the elf population dwindling more each decade, it wasn't sure they could pull off such a feat again. The Planet still needed time to heal. It had thought the same was true of the elves, but the humans had hunted them almost to extinction, thinking they were in league with the infected creatures the Calamity had used as an army in the war. Those elves that were left were apparently more intent on merging with the humans than preserving their bloodlines. Their magic was growing thin; so thin that in another couple of generations, they wouldn't be able to hear the magic or the spirits at all anymore. _

**_"Life is magic," _**_it muttered.** "Find magic to find life for self. Find life to find magic for self."**_

_The lesser spirits ignored the words. Leaving them to squabble, it swirled away into the ether. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_


	3. Chosen

.

* * *

><p><strong>3. Chosen <strong>

* * *

><p>Everything hurt. His arms and legs ached. His spine throbbed. His ribcage pulsed with agony when he inhaled and melted into white-hot mush when he exhaled. Even the roots of his hair were sore.<p>

Zack prised his eyes open. They felt gummy, the eyeballs beneath swollen and dry by comparison. Someone had turned his eyelashes inwards. That had to be it. Why else would blinking cause such scraping agony? No, wait, he wasn't blinking. His eyes remained open. That was light stabbing his retinas like a thousand needles. It hurt so much that actual sight was just a pipe-dream. All his senses were muted, his muscles watery and slow to respond.

"Werewolves don't exist."

His hearing returned first, but still slowly. The voice was soft but recognisable. He opened his eyes again, squinting until the brilliance hurt less. His mind was only half awake. It accepted things it should have disputed – like the fact he was floating in glowing liquid; like being plastered in sensors and wires like the most fucked up Christmas tree in the world; like headgear clamped over his skull like a motorcycle helmet. Earphones built into the helmet allowed him to hear a tinny replay of what was going on outside. He didn't have the acumen to figure out why. He was still working on 'what' and 'how', with a little 'when' swirling around the edges of his thoughts.

A ratty face stared up at him through the liquid. Behind it hung a long ponytail, and since it wasn't floating, Zack's mind could surmise it wasn't in liquid too. It was just him. His sluggish arm lifted and met resistance: glass. It had to be reinforced. Either that or he had been reduced from super-soldier to the strength of a new-born kitten. He was inside a large cylinder on some sort of platform. He tilted his head to look up and instantly wished he hadn't. Nausea rolled through him. He hadn't felt this bad since … since …

_Jungle. Pain. White light. So bright. Blinding. Bodies disappear in the flare. Angeal. Genesis. So much pain. Flies buzzing. All around. Smell of rotting meat. Heat haze. Stinking country. Angeal! Dead. Dead meat. Me? No! Come back! Angeal, please, come back!_

"You should not exist." The man's tinny voice snapped Zack back to the present. "How are you even possible?"

_Not__possible_, Zack thought foggily. _Impossible.__Shouldn__'__t__be__alive.__Should__'__ve__died.__So__many__times.__Should__'__ve__died__but__never__ … __quite__ … __did__ …_

He drifted. Consciousness was difficult to hold onto.

In the back of his head, something growled.

"Prep him for surgery," whined the earphones.

"Yes, Professor Hojo."

* * *

><p><em>The gorge outside town was the absolute best. The fact it was off-limits only added extra allure. Adults were always worrying about stupid stuff like rocks dropping on your head, or the ground collapsing if you stepped on the wrong spot. The edge was pretty thin, sure, but it was fine if you knew the safe places to tread. He had been sneaking out there as long as he had been told it was forbidden, so he knew them all. <em>

_He told his parents he was going out to play. They were fine with that. They trusted him. He was halfway to the gorge when someone stepped out from behind a banyan tree and blocked his path. Smaller than him, and chewing on one blonde pigtail, he groaned as he recognised who it was. _

_Susie, a girl four years his junior who still liked playing with dolls, pointed her finger and bounced from foot to foot. "I know where you're going!" Susie's favourite pastime after dolls was tattling. She loved making others squirm, and loved watching them get in trouble even more. No kids wanted to hang out with her. Since there were no other kids down their way, it was expected he and she would play together, even though they had nothing in common and he had secrets she would only use to make his life miserable. How could you learn to be a hero when the only available damsel was a pain-in-the-butt tattle-tale?_

_He stepped around her. Maybe it he just ignored her, she would disappear. _

_No such luck._

"_I know, and I'm telling! You're gonna get in so much trouble!" _

"_Only if you tell on me," he retorted._

"_Maybe I will. Unless …"_

"_Unless what?"_

"_Unless you make it worth my while not to tell them." Ten years old and already an expert in blackmail and bribery. What had he done to deserve this? _

"_And maybe I'll tell them about the apple pie you took from my mom's windowsill last week."_

_Her eyes widened. She had thought nobody saw her. Too bad for her he had been working on his stealth skills that day. A flowerbed with just one tree wasn't an ideal place to practise hiding, but he had done a good enough job to fool her. He propped his wooden sword on his shoulder and grinned._

"_You're mean," she snapped. "I'm gonna tell my mom that you broke Dolly." _

_He eyeballed the doll in the crook of her arm. She carted one everywhere. It made adults think she was cute and innocent. Even his own mom thought she was a 'sweet girl', not some hell-spawn in a frilly dress. "That ugly thing?" _

_She gave the doll a sharp tug, popping its head off. "I'm gonna make sure you get in trouble. Nobody'll believe you if you say I did bad stuff. They'll think you're just making up lies to cover up what a bully you are to me." She sniffed artfully, producing tears that made her eyes shine and seem twice as big. _

_He squared his shoulders. "Go ahead. See if I care."_

_She ran off. _

_He wasn't worried. He liked sneaking off to the gorge, but other than that he was a good kid and everyone knew it. He stood up against bullies, pitched in when the village had a project like repairing roofs or cleaning up the water supply, and was generally respected and liked. Nobody would believe her story of him randomly destroying her plaything or lying. All she would achieve was a ruined toy she couldn't play with anymore. _

_He loved practising with his sword. His father had made it for him out of the wood from a tree that fell on into their house during a big storm when he was a baby. It had destroyed several rooms and trapped him under his crib for six hours until the other villagers dug him out. His father had said it was a sign and used the wood from the tree to rebuild the house. What was leftover he had made into the sword and kept until his son was big enough to use it._

_These days the sword was pockmarked from training. His skills were a hodgepodge, mostly picked up from travelling mercenaries in exchange for food. The village didn't welcome interlopers, but as long as they stayed on the edge of town and helped out against the vampire threat during their stay, they were tolerated. He pocketed his own meals whenever one came along, since he felt bad about taking from the larder and food was a universal language. The only continuous teacher he had ever had was a guy who lived in a shack away from everyone else, who claimed he was once optioned for a job in Shinra, but had turned them down._

_As__if.__He__couldn__'__t__imagine__anyone__turning__down__**Shinra.**__Besides,_ e_verybody__knew__Shinra__only__took__the__best.__The__guy__was__crazier__than__a__foaming__dog,__but__he__was__useful__and__didn__'__t__think__kids__should__just__stay__home__twiddling__their__thumbs__and__playing__with__toys__all__day.__Plus,__he__could__move__pretty__fast__for__an__old-timer__with__one__wooden__leg__and__an__eye__patch.__Skills__like__that__were__worth__learning__if__someone__was__willing__to__teach__them._

_His mother and father would have been horrified at the things he had learned. On some level they may have understood why he wanted to learn to fight, but they hated the idea of him being in danger. They would have forbidden the lessons he had already gone through, much less the stuff he knew lay ahead if he was really going to make a difference with his life. They wouldn't understand why he had gone ahead and started turning himself into a fighter when they thought he was busy thinking about girls and homework. Until he was old enough to go to Midgar and achieve his dreams, he needed to be able to keep him home safe._

_The gorge provided privacy and no chance of awkward questions. His mother wanted him to pick a nice, safe job, but he had his heart set on Shinra. To him, Shinra represented everything he had ever wanted. More than anything, it meant freedom. _

_He didn't hate Gongaga, but he had been born with itchy feet and a desire for **more**than small-town life. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to visit distant lands, and do some good while he was at it. Shinra's SOLDIER programme seemed ideal. Since they only took the best, he had to become the best, and the only way that would happen was with practise. _

_He picked a spot where plenty of roots stuck out of the ground. Sliding his sword into his belt, he clambered down the nearly sheer side of the gorge. He skidded the last couple of feet, but nobody was around to notice him fumble his landing. _

_Immediately he went to work, going through kata and repeating the basic moves of swordplay until they were fast but still perfect. Combat moves tended to deteriorate the faster you went. He showed a kind of patience that would have made his mother marvel, not changing from one move until it was flawless. By the time an hour had passed, he was soaked with more sweat than even a tropical climate warranted. His arm muscles trembled. He smiled at a job well done and moved on to sparring against invisible opponents. _

_When he reached the two hour mark he decided enough was enough. It was nearly dinnertime and he would be missed soon. Once against sticking the sword in his belt, he scaled the wall using roots, outcroppings and whatever else came to hand. _

_He should have waited until his muscles had recovered beyond the trembly stage. He was halfway up when disaster struck. A rock came loose in his hand in a shower of scree. He windmilled backwards, hooking his left foot in an exposed tree root to stop himself falling twenty feet to the gorge bottom. He still arced backwards, but instead of falling he slammed upside down and bounced against the wall. Stars exploded across his vision. He reached blindly for another handhold but couldn't find one. Pain blossomed, starting in his ankle and moving rapidly up his shin and into the meat of his leg. _

"_Aaaahh!"_

_His foot slipped out and he rolled the rest of the way. The holds that had helped him on the way up now became obstacles that jabbed and cut on the way down. He instinctively tried to protect his head and neck. When he finally came to a stop it was all he could do to curl into a foetal ball as a thousand hurts rippled through him. _

_He must have blacked out. The next thing he knew, it was dark and the sky was speckled with stars. He had decided to go home at dinner time. How many hours had passed since then? His parents would be worried. _

_He cried out when he tried to get up. His ankle was molten with agony. Maybe he passed out again. Maybe he was just hallucinating from a combination of pain and a concussion. A lump the size of a dragon's egg sat on the back of his skull. Sand coated his teeth and hair, making him long for a drink. _

_A pair of eyes glittered at him from the gloom. _

_He was in big trouble._

_Yet the eyes didn't advance. They blinked. He stared right back. What else could he do? He couldn't move and his sword wasn't in his belt. He considered calling for help, but he had come to the gorge because people rarely came near. _

_Swell choice, genius, he thought acidly. Now you're gonna be dinner for something clawed and toothy. Some hero._

_He felt woozy and sick. His head was heavy. His neck suddenly seemed like a wet noodle. He blinked rapidly and squinted, regulating his breathing out of panic territory. He had to stay conscious and calm. He was done for if he couldn't keep a clear head. His ears buzzed. It was hard to think clearly through the shifting pictures and sounds his mind threw out. He seemed to fade in and out of dreams and reality, until he couldn't tell one from the other. _

_He remembered lying back and the eyes approaching. He was scared. He didn't want to die – he especially didn't want to be eaten alive by some animal. Out here alone, nobody would find him for days. He struck at the creature, but missed. _

_The eyes flashed._

"_Mom!"_

_Then suddenly he was running. His ankle was no longer a problem. His chest tingled, as from the aftereffects of a punch, but it was a good sort of pain. His lungs burned with exercise and exhilaration. He was strong. He was fast. He could run, jump, swim, climb – do anything he wanted! The eyes got closer and closer, but it didn't matter. He could just run away. _

_Except that he couldn't. He was lame. He was sickly. He was … prey? He held out his hands, trying to fend off the predator. That was what the eyes belonged to; some huge predator with a taste for blood. His blood. Was it … a vampire?_

"_Dad! Help me!"_

_Something wet and cold touched his palm. He yelped and tried to scramble away. His ankle detonated. His stomach convulsed. He wasn't strong or fast; he was weak and shameful. The world greyed out. He felt his wooden sword hilt under his palm and brandished it in a pathetic defence, not questioning where it had come from. He may be weak, but he would still go out fighting. _

_A sound almost like laughter surrounded him. _

_**Brave. Good. **_

_His head pounded, and then … his whole body felt weightless. _

_**Strong. Better.**_

_Was he dead?_

_**Survivor. Best.**_

_He floated away on a sea of stillness and light._

_**Chosen. **_

_He woke to voices calling his name. What had happened? His sword was jammed into the dirt next to him. He was alone. Still woozy, he propped himself on one elbow and swayed. Had he dreamed the whole thing? _

"_There you are!"_

_He looked up. "Dad…" His throat felt like it was lined with wet cement. He coughed. "'Mm … sorry, I dint … meanta …"_

_His father cursed. Someone else ran up behind him. They exchanged a few words, several of which were 'poison' and 'lucky to be alive'. _

"_Rock dragon," said the other man. "Nasty little buggers. He must've disturbed it when he tried to climb out of this place. See there on his ankle? Bite marks."_

"_We have to get him home," said his father. "He needs to see a doctor."_

"_I can walk …" he tried to protest as he was gathered up and strapped to a wide, strong back. They took off his belt and cinched it around his wrists, looping his arms around his father's neck so he wouldn't fall off as they scaled the side of the gorge._

"_Hold on tight," his father commanded. _

_He could barely hold on at all. "But –"_

"_We'll talk when we get home."_

"_My little Susie said you broke her doll and ran off," said the second man. He must have been their neighbour. The face was too fuzzy to tell. "And something about a pie you stole?"_

_He made a vague noise of protest, before sinking once more into unconsciousness._

* * *

><p><strong><em>To Be Continued ...<em>**


	4. Under Evil's Thumb

.

* * *

><p><strong>4. <em>Under <em>_Evil__'__s__Thumb_**

* * *

><p>A guy could get pretty sick of being treated like an animal. Zack glared at Professor Hojo, wishing he could just punch him in the nose already.<p>

"Again," Hojo said impassively.

His assistant scored Cloud's arm with a scalpel. Blood welled in its wake, forming a dark line that trickled like ink from crook to wrist. Under his wrist a beaker waited to collect it. Only when the blood plipped against the bottom of the glass did it turn red. Hojo only glanced at it. The wound claimed his attention. He poked and prodded at it, making the blood run quicker.

"Incision not sealing as fast as in earlier tests," he said into his Dictaphone. "One may infer that the subject requires haemoglobin replenishment to operate at maximum efficiency. This almost certainly proves my theory of starvation as an effective means of impeding the vampire's natural healing capacity. How long one can last without food, however –" He glanced at Zack. "– remains to be seen. Likewise the amount of damage a vampire can sustain once reduced to a weakened state. This subject has not yet expired, despite repeated attempts to 'push the envelope', as one of my subordinates recently said when he thought I was not listening."

Zack watched everything. He couldn't look away. Moreover, he wouldn't let himself. This was not the worst they had done to Cloud. Having never procured a vampire compliant enough to use in his sick experiments, Hojo was taking full advantage of having Cloud at his mercy. It helped immensely that they had leverage to make Cloud cooperate where another vampire would not. If Cloud refused, or tried to break his restraints with that legendary vampire strength, Hojo exacted punishment on Zack. It was more effective than punishing Cloud himself. It also had the added consequence of making Zack feel like he was somehow responsible for his friend's situation.

He _was_ responsible, Zack told himself. If it hadn't been for him and Sephiroth, Cloud wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have been in the reactor that night. He wouldn't have been vulnerable and there for Hojo to abduct. He wouldn't have been turned. Zack had blamed himself from the moment he woke up in this godforsaken laboratory and hadn't stopped since.

Of course, he wasn't the only one accountable. Sephiroth had a lot to answer for. Zack still didn't fully understand how any vampire could turn the Silver General, or how the symptoms he had showed fitted in with what Zack knew about vampirism, but Sephiroth _had_ been infected. Yet his crimes had already been punished by his death. It was left to Zack to compensate Cloud for his sacrifices.

It was hard to tell how long they'd been here. The labs were hard on Zack's sense of time, especially since Hojo and his goons liked to periodically knock him to move him from place to place. They seemed to think he was constantly a hairsbreadth from wolfing out and savaging them. It was a little insulting that they thought less of his self-control than of a new vamp's. Zack had not shifted once in all his years at Shinra. Then again, it _wasn__'__t_ like he had much control once he loosened the reins. His sense of self was too precious to relinquish for even a moment after he nearly lost it in the reactor.

"Tip the table back," Hojo ordered. "Slowly."

The metal tables here were all adjustable, positioned on two separate axes. Whoever was strapped to them could flip end over end or around and around, depending on Hojo's whims. Usually it was Cloud. Despite the rarity of Zack's lycanthrope, Hojo seemed far more interested in Cloud, just as he had always been more interested in Sephiroth than any of the other Elites. Genesis and Angeal had both been formidable warriors, but Hojo continuously treated them with a dismissiveness that made Zack wonder how kosher his interest in Sephiroth really was. Hojo was a genius, but he was also a twisted, creepy bastard. Who knew what his designs on the Silver General had actually been? Could they have had some bearing on what happened to Sephiroth in Nibelheim? Food for thought.

Later. Zack was totally focussed on Cloud right now. Hojo was planning something bad. Worse than last time. It was always worse than last time. Zack considered bashing his fists against the inside of his tube, but that hadn't worked the eleven-million other time he tried.

"Stop." Hojo halted the table when it was vertical. He set about measuring and assessing Cloud's body like a sinister dressmaker. All the while he talked into his Dictaphone. Sometimes he glanced at Zack's containment tube, but like a little kid watching onlookers during a tantrum. So that was how it was. He was trying to provoke Zack into a reaction. "No discernable increase in muscle mass, though subject has proven a distinct intensification of physical prowess compared with the results of his last physical examination as a human. Practical tests have shown an increase in speed and strength of approximately fifty percent over a one hundred and eighty day period."

A hundred and eighty days? Zack did a few mental calculations. That was around six months. They had been here six months already?

"Damn it," he cursed. The ever-present breathing mask picked up the murmur. Hojo kept the masks fastened over their faces while they were in the tubes so they could breathe in his airborne drugs and have them mix in their bloodstreams with the mako liquid absorbed through their skin into a potent, numbing cocktail.

Hojo stopped. He looked right at Zack. There were speakers in the masks too, and these had broadcast his words across the room. "You have something to add, Specimen Z?"

Hojo's decision to replace their names grated like nothing else. Zack could snap Hojo like a twig, but here the scientist had all the power. He also knew how to hammer home that fact. One bad move and they were toast. Worse than toast. He could turn them back into dough and pound the shit out of them, and they couldn't do a thing about it.

"How about 'you're a sicko'?" Zack replied glibly. He only slurred his words a little. That was progress. Sometimes he could barely get his lips to work at all. "Or 'what does a guy have to do to get a decent sandwich around here'?" He smiled, though most of the expression was hidden by the mask. He knew he shouldn't provoke Hojo, but the guy's smug face made him want to break things. Possibly bones. And teeth. Definitely teeth. "Or maybe 'I'm going to make you so sorry you were ever born, you'll want to crawl back inside your mother and divide back into single cells'."

Hojo's expression twitched. He sighed, like a teacher facing a recalcitrant student. Turning back to the lab table, he waved at his assistant. "Bring me Kit Box Forty-Two."

"Yes, sir."

"You really should learn to control your mouth as well as you control other things about yourself, Specimen Z," Hojo said, almost conversationally. "Cooperation would make your life much easier."

"Your life, you mean," Zack retorted. "I don't see us getting cut much slack if we're compliant." Zack's gaze shifted to Cloud, whose eyes were averted. Cloud was focussed somewhere inside himself, as he had taken to doing lately when on the table.

To say Cloud wasn't taking well to being a vampire would be a heartless understatement. At first he had cried over Nibelheim. Then he had yelled about the unfairness of the situation. Zack couldn't blame him. He wanted the yelling back. It was better than the despair when Cloud realised the full ramifications of what had been done to him. He was no longer human. He had become what he had been trained to hate and kill. It was a lot for a guy to absorb, never mind being trapped in a mad scientist's laboratory, kept in a tube like a frog in formaldehyde, and experimented on. The fact that Cloud had maintained any sense of self was amazing.

Most vampires fell to bloodlust within their first week and became little more than mindless beasts. Those were the kind Shinra had created a specific fighting force to kill. Not content with monopolising the supply of power to the continent, Shinra Electric Company had swung hearts and minds back in their favour by proposing themselves as the saviours of mankind against 'the vampire threat'. Few vampires were able to overcome the bloodlust. Those that did retain sanity were still changed from who they had been before they were infected. Even Sephiroth fell to the mind-altering side of the virus, which erased things like mercy and compassion, while enhancing pride, superiority and a desire to dominate. The virus wanted to spread as fast and far as possible, and the best way to do that was to make each infected person want to pass on the 'gift' of vampirism. In mindless vamps this was submerged under a simple desire to feed, but the stable ones were a whole different problem.

Cloud had exhibited none of these symptoms. Instead, all Zack had been able to pick up was a sense of self-hatred and misery, though part of that could be grief over his village and family. Cloud was a gentle soul. He wasn't cut out for the long-term effects of conflict. Zack had often wondered what drove him to join Shinra. He knew Cloud had harboured dreams of joining SOLDIER for a long time before actually moving to Midgar. Maybe the sense of honour that had made him take on Sephiroth had also made him want to protect others from things that go bump in the night.

Hojo assistant came back with what looked like a plastic suitcase. Hojo laid this on a separate work surface and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. He talked to Zack as he worked. "Your constant threats serve no purpose other than mild irritation, Z."

"Works for me," Zack said chirpily. "By the way, die a painful and embarrassing death."

Hojo opened the case. Metal gleamed inside.

"No!" Zack propelled himself at the side of the tube. "Leave him alone, you bastard!"

Hojo drew out the surgical saw. He tested its heft and weight, laid it on the counter and lifted a series of scalpels and lancets, each more brutal looking than the last. Finally he took a marker pen from his top pocket, turned back to Cloud and drew a dotted line in a Y-shape across his chest and torso. It was the kind of line drawn on corpses to guide pathologists during autopsies.

"Stop it!" Zack roared. "Hojo, you –"

Hojo raised his Dictaphone. "I will now examine the effects of severe trauma on the subject after being starved of haemoglobin for –" he checked his watch, "– seventy-five hours. Dissection beginning at 0700." Ignoring Zack, he lined up his chosen blade and made the first cut.

* * *

><p><em>His father shut the door and set his axe down next to the umbrella stand. They didn't any umbrellas in it. If they did get rain it was a tropical storm, and that meant finding a safe place to hide – preferably underground in a caller or in the caves outside town. No umbrella would save you from that kind of weather. Still, the umbrella stand was a family heirloom, so it sat by the front door, ugly but permanent.<em>

"_I wish you wouldn't do this," his mother said to his father. She wasn't the type of woman to wring her hands, but she clattered plates and cutlery onto the table with more force than necessary. "It's not safe."_

"_It's a vampire," his father replied. "That's the point. Nobody's safe until we catch it and kill it."_

_Her lips thinned. "Dinner's nearly ready. Wash up and sit down."_

_His father went to the bathroom. He followed, watching from the doorway. He had always thought of his father as indestructible. Hunched over the sink, splashing his face with cold water, he still looked imposing, but there was something overwhelmed about his stance too, as if he was only just holding himself together._

_A week had passed since the first sightings of the vampire in the forest. The town had been in lockdown ever since. Nobody had been killed, so nobody had alerted officials and called out military types who would rip the town to shreds in their search for the creature. His father and the other older men wanted to keep the whole affair private. What good would it do anyone, they reasoned, to have people from Shinra or one of those amateur vampire hunter groups poking around? Shinra was bad news. Maybe the vampire would leave on its own. If it didn't, they could take care of the problem and not have to deal with inquiries that would damage the town's reputation and bring a wealth of unwanted paperwork and sanctions down on their heads. Farfig, the nearest other town to experience a vampire attack, was still under curfew. Housing squaddies from Midgar paraded around town, brandishing guns and massive swords 'to keep people safe'. _

_He had been to Farfig. Those men were a disgrace. He had resolved then, when he saw them lounging around in cafés and on street corners, never to be so dissolute. If he ever made it out of here and joined Shinra, he would throw himself into his work. He would make sure nobody ever looked at him the way the people of Farfig looked at their 'protectors'. _

"_Dad?" he said hesitantly. _

"_You should be helping your mother serve up," his father said, patting his face with a towel._

"_Can I go with you next time?"_

"_No."_

"_But Dad –"_

"_I said no."_

"_But –"_

"_We've been through this. It's too dangerous."_

"_I'm not a little kid anymore. I know how to fight."_

"_You know how to fight shadows and imaginary enemies." _

_Stung, he muttered, "I could take on a vamp, no problem."_

"_And you'd die trying." The statement was blunt and wounding, like a billy-club to the face. _

"_Dad, I'm fifteen years old. I don't need you to –"_

"_I'm not having this conversation." His father brushed past dismissively._

_He trailed after the taller, broader, more experienced man. "But I want to help!" He hated how desperate he sounded. All his life he had heard how vampires were dangerous, how they should always be on guard against them, not to invite strangers into the house, to keep stakes in handy places. He knew the routines inside and out._

"_You can help by staying out of the way." His father sat down at the table and pulled him into the chair opposite. "And by passing the potatoes."_

"_Your father's right," said his mother. She lifted the mismatching lid off a crockpot inherited from her grandmother. Her life was a myriad of past generations seeping into this one. Spiced rice dotted with discs of brilliant red sausage sent a cloud of steam towards the ceiling. Some ancestor's recipe, no doubt, given a modern twist because her husbanded hated lentils and her son was allergic to turmeric. "It's strange to think there didn't used to be any vampires to worry about."_

"_I thought there'd always been vamps?" he said, taking the ladle. _

"_In myth and legend," said his father. "Then Shinra started poking about with mako, stirring up things below the Planet's surface. They've done a lot of good, but they've loosed a lot of bad things as well."_

"_Don't you **ever** talk like that outside this house," his mother said sharply. _

"_Don't worry, I'm not such an idiot," his father assured her. _

"_**Shinra** created the vampires?" He couldn't believe that. Shinra **saved** people from vampires. Sephiroth was from Shinra, and he was a great hero. There were rumours he had killed an entire nest all on his own, and brought their heads back as proof. _

_His father shook his head. "I didn't say that. What I will say is that things have been come back into the world that should have stayed asleep. There's a lot worse than vampires in those myths and legends."_

_He stared at his plate, suddenly not hungry. "I bet Sephiroth could take out whatever crawls out of them," he said sullenly. _

"_I'll bet he could, son," said his father, fully aware of his hero-worship. "Now eat your food. Do you have any homework?"_

"_Daaad!"_

"_I'll take that as a yes."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_


	5. Old Wounds

.

* * *

><p><strong>5. Old Wounds<strong>

* * *

><p>They had taken Cloud away. Zack didn't know where, or when. He had woken from another of Hojo's fruitless attempts to make him transform to find the tube beside his empty. Beating his fists against the glass didn't help. Neither did yelling into the headgear they still insisted on making him wear.<p>

He withdrew to think. He mustn't panic. They had moved Cloud before. They had never cleaned out his tank, though. His charts were missing too. Zack's SOLDIER-sharp sight told him every scrap of evidence that his friend had ever been here was gone. What that meant was anyone's guess, but one thing was certain: if Hojo was behind his disappearance that meant nothing good for Cloud.

Zack's jaw hurt. He realised he was clenching it hard enough to break his teeth.

The door slid open.

_Speak__of__the__devil__and__he__'__ll__appear._Zack folded his arms. It wasn't as if he had any power in this situation, but it was better than letting Hojo see how frustrated he was. Hojo was a vindictive sadist. Show him weakness and he exploited it totally. Zack kept his tone even. "Where is he?"

Hojo's smile was like broken glass. "Who?"

"Cloud."

"You mean Specimen C?" His eyes glittered. "He was removed from this facility in the interests of research. Our investigations here have gone as far as they can."

"Bullshit." So much for keeping his cool. "If that was the case, you wouldn't still be here."

"I have stayed because you are here, Specimen Z."

Zack shook his head. "You're more interested in Cloud than in me."

"You are a werewolf. I don't think you fully appreciate how rare that is. Any scientist worth his salt would want to study you further."

And yet he never looked at Zack the way he looked at Cloud: hungrily, almost desperately. Something about Cloud got under Hojo's skin, even if he was 'just' a vampire, like all the other vampires out there, while Zack was a 'rare beast'. Not one who had ever transformed on command, of course, but still rarer than your common or garden variety vamp.

"You're lying."

Hojo's smile widened. Creepy bastard. "I simply wish to streamline our testing programme. Specimen C was a needless distraction whose mere presence encouraged you towards insubordination and noncompliance, and vice-versa."

Meaning they took strength from each other and to break them down into compliant little test subjects Hojo had separated them like naughty children. A jolt of pain went up Zack's jaw from a molar. He narrowed his eyes at Hojo.

"What's your real game, Hojo?"

"Life is not a game," Hojo said dismissively, going over to one of the terminals that registered Zack's life signs. He paused, long fingers extended towards the keys. "But if it was, I would doubtless be making sure I was the winner."

"Where. Is. Cloud?"

"Gone, and that's all I intend to say on the matter." Hojo scanned the read-outs and smiled. "Testy, aren't we? Adrenaline levels elevated, increased brain activity, a burgeoning hormonal imbalance – I do believe you're angry with me, Specimen Z."

Zack knew what he was up to. It wasn't the first time Hojo had tried to make him angry enough to transform. He seemed to think that, based on the limited and abruptly cut off video feed from the Nibelheim reactor, Zack's shifting depended on his emotional state. If that were the case, however, how had Zack endured losing Angeal, or Genesis's desertion, or the terrible things he had seen in the Wutai War?

_For a smart guy, Hojo's really dumb. _

Hojo had tried to use Cloud to force his hand before, too. As soon as he realised the depth of their friendship, and Zack's protective instincts, he tried to exploit them. Hours of torture and serial experiments had led him to nothing but a very pissed, but still very human Zack and a vampire who barely reacted anymore. Cloud's vampiric healing sealed up any wounds given the right amount of time, and the amount of mako Hojo's team doused them with took care of the rest. Evidently mako still affected vampires the way it did humans.

Zack centred himself. He remembered Angeal once trying to teach him meditation, with limited success. Zack was always such a bundle of energy, it was difficult to make him sit still. Now, after months of this hellhole, he had learned how to exist for long periods of time just listening to his own breathing.

Hojo made an irritated noise as the readings changed. "Hmm, apparently you don't care about Specimen C as much as hypothesised."

_Go__to__hell_, Zack thought, but said nothing. His brain whirred, worrying about Cloud, about how long they had been here, about Aerith and Midgar, about what Shinra was planning, about whether Sephiroth had survived the reactor – until he forced everything into a box and mentally sat on the lid. He could still hear the thoughts, but they were muffled and allowed him to concentrate on the immediate moment with more clarity.

The liquid started to drain from his tube. He opened his eyes again. Hojo's minions stood by with manacles and what looked like a collar on a rod, of the kind used to catch stray dogs. Zack would have been insulted, had he cared enough. One thing thrummed through him, his most immediate concern: Cloud.

Underneath the box of unwelcome worries, he sensed movement. Something deep in his psyche stirred. A flash of panic went through him; not now! The presence growled softly, but retreated. Relief washed over him.

Hojo had never been able to wake the wolf in Zack. Probably because he had made several inaccurate assumptions and Zack hadn't put him right.

"Now, Z." Hojo drew out the letter like a drunken bumble-bee. "Don't be difficult." He said it in such a way that everyone knew he was hoping just the opposite.

Zack hunkered down, taking up a lotus position like he couldn't care less that they were coming for him.

* * *

><p><em>He raced through the trees, branches smacking his arms and chest while twigs scratched his face. Tears sequinned the air behind him, as if someone had sprinkled glitter in his wake. The ground was rough and difficult to navigate in daylight, let alone at night. He ducked and stumbled, mind and stomach both churning. <em>

_Seconds later he burst out of the underbrush and came to an abrupt halt. His path had brought him to the canyon. His lungs hurt and his chest heaved. He hadn't tried to be silent. He hadn't been thinking coherently at all. He wasn't even sure how he had picked up the trail. Instinct, maybe, or pure dumb luck._

_The group at the edge turned to face him. Every one of them had red eyes that glowed in the darkness._

_A strangled noise escaped his throat. _

_The group laughed; or rather, one man laughed and the rest followed his lead. The sound they made was jerky and unnatural, like they had never laughed before and were trying it out for the first time. When the first man stopped, so did they._

"_So there **was** a survivor," the man said, sounding amused. _

"_Y-you …" He swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper and his nose stung. This was no time for tears! He sucked in a breath for strength, but it didn't help. Adrenaline alone was keeping him on his feet right now. "You k-killed…" Damn it, his teeth were chattering too much to get the words out._

_The man shrugged. "I kill a lot of people. You'll have to be more specific." He cocked his head to one side, smiling with fangs. "You look, what, fifteen? Sixteen? I'll bet you're sweet sixteen. Are you here to avenge a girlfriend? Some saccharine love of your young life whose innocent virgin blood I spilled?" More unnatural laughter, abruptly halted by a raised hand. _

"_My__family,__" __he__gritted.__ "__You__k-killed__my__**family**_."

_He tried to force away the images – the knock at the door, his mother opening it to reveal his father, swaying and with blood on his shirt. She had ordered him to come inside, of course. She'd thought he was hurt. He had been out on another expedition against the rogue vampire that had been haunting their town. She had actually been reaching for the med-kit they kept under the sink when her husband grabbed her, spun her around and ripped her throat out. _

"_My mom and dad. You turned my father and he …"_

"_And he killed your mother?" The man – no, the vampire – smiled viciously. "How deliciously amusing. Did he spare you, or did you run away?"_

_The images wouldn't leave. He could still see his father fastened on his mother's neck, and hear the dull thump of her body hitting the floor when he reasserted his will enough to let go. The pleading in his father's red eyes had been terrible, as his real self struggled against the monster he had become. That final request would ring in his ears until his dying day._

_Or night. _

_Maybe tonight. _

_He set his feet. "I killed him." _

"_You?" the vampire guffawed. The others set up a low chuckling. _

_With growing horror, he recognised their faces: Saul, the baker; old Farley from three streets away; his school janitor; the headmistress. They had each been turned and now followed this vampire like mindless drones. It was enough to make him want to scream._

"_You actually expect me to believe you killed your own father?" the vampire asked. Abruptly his tone changed, becoming harsh and grating, like a knife skidding across a plate. "I think you're lying. I think you ran away. Little coward. I gave my servants orders to kill or turn everyone they saw. Servants always obey their master."_

_He could still feel the smooth heft of his father's axe handle in his hands. He should have brought it with him, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to pull it out of the groove it had made in the floorboards when he swung it. Suddenly, he felt so alone it was all he could do not to fall to his knees. Yet he couldn't falter; not now. This vampire had done too much. He had to stop this before it went any further. He had to **fix** this._

_The vampire's smile was humourless. He was handsome, or would have been while he was still human, with dark hair, long legs and a sharp suit set off by the katana at his waist. He hadn't drawn the weapon, nor did he seem inclined to anytime soon. "The boy wants to fight! He actually wants to go toe-to-toe with **me**!"_

"_Fight, fight, fight," warbled the others. _

"_Or rather," the vampire said, "he wants to die."_

_It happened so fast, he was spinning into a tree before he even realised the creature had moved. The impact sent pain flaring across his back and chest. He fell to the ground, coughing and spitting. First strike and already something grated painfully in his chest. He struggled to get back up. You couldn't stay down in a fight. That was certain death._

"_No challenge at all," the vampire sighed. "You're not worth the effort. You there. Finish him."_

_One of the newly turned vamps scurried over. His vision swam with black spots, but he made out the familiar features and his heart sank a little more. Soon it would reach the Planet's core. "Not you too, Susie."_

_His neighbour hissed at him like a feral cat. Behind her, the lead vampire waved a hand and half turned away, as if watching him die was so tiresome it couldn't be bothered. "Kill. There's a good girl."_

_Susie's smile was stuffed with fangs. Her eyes glowed brighter than fireflies. She launched herself, hands still human, but curled as if she would have preferred claws to sink into him too. He was halfway into a kneeling position when she hit him. _

_The lead vampire turned back at her howl. "What the –?"_

"_I'm sorry." He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't bear to see the puzzled agony on Susie's face. He had cursed always being told to go play with his stupid, soppy neighbour. They had hurled terrible names and inventive but gruesome insults at each other for as long as either of them could remember. Susie was pretty smart for her age. She never would have looked this way: like a foolish puppy who had been kicked and didn't know the reason. "I'm so, so sorry."_

_The weight of her falling body wrenched the wooden sword out of his trembling hands. It stuck up out of her chest like a mainsail missing its flag. _

_Fangs filled his field of vision. He smelled old meat and felt hot breath on his face. Instinctively he brought his arm up to shield himself. The vampire casually reached out and snapped his wrist. The pain was intense – so much that the night around him whited out for a second. He might have screamed. Maybe he passed out. All he knew was that he was suddenly on the ground and the vampire was leaning over him._

"_You're young and stupid, but you might make a good servant."_

"_No!" He battled to get free, or at least protect his throat. _

_His own pulse sounded unbearably loud in his ears. Could the vampire hear that? Was that what was making its pupils dilate, shrinking the red iris to a sliver. The red eyes burned brighter than fireworks. _

"_Get off!" He struck out blindly. _

_By sheer luck, the back of his hand caught the vampire in the side of the face. Something warm sprayed into his hair. _

"_Wh…" The vampire stared at him, face turning furious. "You dare to draw **my**blood?" _

_He was hoisted into the air. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. His feet kicked empty air. His good hand scrabbled to unlock the vampire's iron grip on his neck. His other hand twitched, sending a fresh blaze of pain up his arm and into his shoulder. Spots prickled the edges of his vision and he knew with unerring certainty that he was going to die._

_He saw a replay of his father, fighting to stay in control long enough to hand over the axe. His father had quaked with the effort it took to stay still. He had trusted his son to do what had to be done. He had even apologised for forcing him to do it. _

_He couldn't die now; not after all that. He couldn't let this vampire live after what had become of Gongaga. He had seen the bodies in the streets, some laying half in and half out of their houses. Their loved ones, too, had come back from the hunt with blood on their minds. The hunters had become the hunted, and everybody had paid the price for this creature picking their town for its games._

_Something in the back of his mind twinged. It felt like an itch in the centre of his head. Was this what it felt like to die of oxygen starvation? His mouth still worked to suck in air, but it was no use._

I don't want to die_,__he__thought__desperately.__Primitive__fear__stabbed__him__like__an__icicle._I don't want to die!

**Then****don****'****t**_,__said__the__itch._

But I … I … _The__world__was__starting__to__fade.__The__vampire__laughed.__He__could__still__hear__it__cackling__away.__What__a__soundtrack__to__die__to._I can't beat a vampire on my own. _How__had__he__ever__thought__he__could?__He__had__just__rushed__out__here__without__thinking,__as__usual.__Now__he__was__going__to__die__and__the__thing__would__go__on__killing._

**Fight.**

_But I –_

**Fight!**

_I can't –_

**Can.**

_The vampire released him. Or rather, the vampire backed off at the way his body suddenly erupted in a blaze of fur and teeth. The world continued to fade from his vision, but his body seemed to go on without him. He was dimly aware of moving, but it was like being a passenger, or watching a home movie of yourself as a kid, doing things you can't remember ever doing. _

_He heard the 'shing' of metal, like a sword leaving its scabbard. Something crunched. A taste flooded his mouth, like that time he tried to cook barbeque and ended up giving himself food poisoning from a mostly raw plate of sausages he ate because he couldn't admit his dad had been right when he said they weren't done yet. Mom had never let him cook again._

Mom … Dad …

_Their faces slipped away like smoke. He reached out, trying to grab them, but he couldn't. Everything was slipping away. He tried to reassert himself, but continued to slide backwards into oblivion. Their faces were replaced by other images, each sharp and clear, but none of them his own: running across an open plain; curled in a cave to watch the snow outside; jumping feet-first into a stream to catch fish; biting a challenger who wanted to be pack leader; nuzzling a belly that was heavy with pups –_

Get out of my head! _He__couldn__'__t__make__his__mouth__work.__Panic__flooded__him__like__acid__rushing__through__his__veins._Get out! Get out! _He__needed__to__go__back__to__his__body,__but__his__body__was__busy__without__him._ Get out!_He__screamed__it__into__his__own__head._

**Mine now.**

_Like hell. _

GET OUT! _He__battered__at__the__whatever-it-was__controlling__him._

_His father once told him that vampires controlled the people they turned, making them servants, or even worse, little more than mindless slaves they could call on to do their bidding whenever they wanted. The sire vampire got inside the heads of its servants and made them into puppets. _

_He remembered what it felt like to hunt moose. He remembered limping along an old forest path, looking for a good place to die. He remembered pushing past the bodies of his brothers and sisters to reach his mother so he could feed. He remembered his first snow, his first kill, his first moonlight howl –_

GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!

**Foolish,** _said__the__itch._**You****will****die.**

MY BODY! MINE! GET OUT! I'M HUMAN – HUMAN!–AND THIS IS MINE!

_He slammed back into himself and promptly fell on his butt. His very bare butt. He stared around, taking in the chaos. Two vampires lay on the ground. Others were injured, running away. One ran right off the cliff and fell, screaming, into the canyon. _

_What was going on?_

"_You!" hissed voice. An arm wrapped around his throat from behind. _

_Abruptly he was back where he started, choking and pedalling the air in a fight not to suffocate. The itch in his head started up again, but he fought it as well. He wouldn't become a puppet for something else to use. He was human, not a monster._

_The vampire's grip was unsteady. The other arm that came around to hold him still ended in a bloody stump. The hand was gone, as was the sword._

"_What are you?" the vampire demanded._

_He couldn't answer. He was trying too hard not to die._

"_You hurt me," the vampire said in a wet, ragged voice. Fangs brushed the side of his neck. "I need blood to heal."_

_A swish of displaced air. Something silvery and metal flashed in the moonlight. He felt long hair brush his cheek. The mouth about to bite him fell away, as the head it was attached to toppled from its shoulders. Unlike in the legends, vampires didn't turn to dust when they died. The arm around his neck spasmed and tumbled to the ground a second later. The vampires running away fell forward, twitching for a moment before laying still._

_He fell to his hands and knees, gaped and gasping like a landed fish. The vampire's sightless eyes stared back at him. His stomach rebelled._

_Someone crouched next to him, tentatively rubbing his back as he emptied his guts. "Are you wounded?"_

_He looked up. He thought he recognised the face, but everything was muddled in his head. The two near-chokings had left him woozy, not to mention losing control to that … whatever it was. He could still feel its memories jumbled up with his own. He had never even seen snow before in his life! He swayed. _

_This time the arm that caught hold of him was strong in a different way. It held him close. He could hear a heartbeat. That simple vibration was more comforting than anything else he could have hoped for. _

"_You're … alive …" he whispered._

"_As are you."_

"_They were all … all dead … there wasn't … nobody was … left …"_

"_You're hurt."_

_He held up his hands. Hadn't the vampire snapped one of his wrists? They were both moving fine now. His ribs and chest felt unbroken too, even though he was sure he had cracked something when he hit that tree. Maybe he had imagined it. Maybe…_

_The world darkened. _

"_M' sorry," he murmured. "Tried to … to fight … like you …"_

* * *

><p><strong><em>To Be Continued ...<em>**

* * *

><p><em>.<em>


	6. Cry of the Wolf

_._

* * *

><p><strong>6. Cry of the Wolf<strong>

**...**

* * *

><p>He was facing the wolf again. That had been happening more and more since he was locked away in the lab. Most of the time he was insensate, unable to tell the passage of time. Sometimes he was awake and time was a hit-or-miss affair. He might think a day had passed, only to see the date on one of those damn charts and realise nearly a month had gone by while they kept him sedated. The in between times, however, when he wasn't awake but wasn't completely unconscious, were the times the wolf came to him.<p>

He sat across from it, or it sat across from him. Its eyes were golden and far too intelligent for an animal. It waited for him to make the first move with the patience of a predator.

"Well?" he said at last.

**Need to escape.**

"Well, duh. It's not like I've been sitting on my hiney and watching the grass grow all this time."

**This place bad. Has no grass.**

"I didn't mean … Never mind. Any suggestions?" He held up a hand. "Any suggestions that _don't_ involve me giving up control of my body to you?"

The wolf cocked its head to one side. **Why fight so much?**

"To stay alive?"

**No. Why fight Alpha?**

"I would've thought that was obvious."

**Stronger than you. Both know it. **

"You're stronger, yes, but only up to a point."

**Then why suffer in this place when could be free?**

"For one thing, if Hojo finds out he hasn't been on a wild goose chase this whole time, he'll never let us go. Ever."

**Then Alpha will eat him. **The wolf paused and shuddered. **Or not. Poisonous little man. Would make sick. **

Zack couldn't help himself; he grinned. His expression became grim when he remembered the other reason they couldn't just leave. "Cloud," he said simply.

**Pack-brother? **The wolf shook itself, shaggy grey fur swishing in a light that wasn't actually there. **Take him too. Important pack stays together.**

"We're not pack."

**You pack. Pack of two. Soon three. **

"You're not my pack," Zack insisted. "You're a … a parasite!"

**Like tics and fleas?** The wolf growled. **Insolent puppy.**

"Don't call me that," Zack said sharply.

It paused. When it spoke again, the voice that boomed around Zack was quieter. **You think Angeal be proud now?**

"Angeal's dead." It still hurt to say the words. Zack had long ago accepted his mentor's death, but saying it so baldly reopened a wound that had never fully healed. What was it with him and killing the people he cared about? Even if he wasn't striking the final blow, he had to watch as they died.

**Except Cloud.**

He blinked at the wolf.

**Alpha not your enemy**, it said softly.

"You're not …" Zack paused. "I'm not a regular werewolf, am I?"

**No.**

"Am I a werewolf at all?"

**Yes and no. Can become wolf, but you not wolf. Alpha is wolf. You Zack.**

"Alpha." Zack turned the name over. At first, the wolf had approached only enough for him to sense its presence on the edge of his mind. Gradually it had crawled closer. When it first spoke, he had withdrawn so far into himself Hojo's goons had electro-shocked him out of the last stages of reawakening. He couldn't get past the fact that the two instances when he had made contact with the wolf before, it had tried to consume him.

**Not consume. Help.**

"Some help."

**Kept you alive in Nibelheim and Gongaga.**

True, but at what cost? Zack resisted the desire to wake up. This had gone on long enough. It wasn't _normal_, sharing your mind with a wolf ghost, or spirit, or whatever. "What _are_ you?"

**Alpha**, the wolf said simply.

"I mean, are you a ghost or something?"

**Not dead. Not alive either. Difficult to explain.**

"Hey, like I've got anyplace better to go?"

**Yes. Find Cloud. Escape. Be free again.**

"By putting my life in your hands … uh paws. Whatever. The point is, I can't trust you. I don't know anything about you, other than you live in my head and periodically try to take over my body too."

**Protector.**

"You're my guardian angel?"

The wolf laughed. It was an incredibly odd sound. **Position taken**, it snickered. **But guardian of a sort. **

"Where did you come from?"

**Always been. As long as has been wolves, has been Alpha.**

"So you're, like, the spirit of all wolves?"

**Complicated. Difficult to explain.**

"Okay then: why me? If you're some great wolf spirit, why not shack up with actual wolves?"

The wolf became sombre. **Bad times coming**, it stated. **Humans will be key.** **All spirits on the move. Preparing. Choosing allies.** **Getting ready.**

"Ready for what?"

**Fight.**

"Fight what? The vampires?"

**Yes and no. Our world. Fight for territory, but also for pack. Family. Protect pups.** It cocked its head to the other side. **Even if pups look funny and walk on two legs. **It pointed its nose upwards, as if looking into an invisible sky. All around them was bare whiteness. If this was the inside of Zack's mind, he seriously needed to hire an interior decorator. **All spirits moving. Vampires upset balance. Need to restore. But dark times coming first. Balance will always be disrupted while –**

The whole world trembled.

Zack sprang up. Unlike in the real world, here he didn't need to worry about pins and needles. "What the hell was that?"

**Opportunity**, said the wolf. It fixed him with its golden stare. **Let Alpha help.**

Zack shook his head. The fear of letting go, of letting the wolf take over, was so great he just couldn't get past it. Twice already he had almost lost himself. After years of holding tight to his sanity and his sense of self against Hojo's torture, no way was he going to give it up just because the wolf asked.

**Not your enemy,** the wolf said earnestly. **Want to help. Chose you because need to save world. All spirits together. Alpha protects territory and pack. Zack protects territory in here and pack-brother Cloud out there. No so different. **

The world trembled again. What was going on out there?

**Work together,** the wolf said suddenly. **Two in here. One out there. Zack see through Alpha's eyes; run on Alpha's feet; scent with Alpha's nose. Alpha already seen world through Zack's senses. Share. Fight together. Rescue pack-brother Cloud together. Escape together. Alpha and Zack bound together. Zack escapes, so does Alpha.**

"I don't know –"

This time, the walls of the white world cracked. Through the cracks _things_ writhed, dark and spidery. Zack didn't know what they were, but he knew they were bad news. Wherever they touched, the white world buckled and shrivelled. His head started to ache.

He was out of options. However, instead of the roiling dread he had always felt when he confronted the fact of the wolf, and his ability to turn into it, this time he felt … relief?

He was getting out of here, and he was taking Cloud with him.

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

><p><em>"He's a child!"<em>

_"He successfully damaged a Level One, sir."_

_"He's a **child**!"_

_"Fifteen, sir. One year off usual initiation age into the armed forces. Plus, he already has experience."_

_"One fight in a moth-eaten village, which he didn't even win."_

_"It was eight against one, sir, and at least two vampires were already dead when I arrived on the scene. One was obviously his kill."_

_"How do you know? Did he say so?"_

_"No, sir."_

_"Well did you observe the kill?"_

_"I was still in transit when it took place, sir. The boy hasn't spoken since we brought him in."_

_"Not even to give his name?"_

_"He just … growls, sir."_

_"Growls? Is he feral or something? You hear a lot of stories about these backwater towns."_

_"Our team has yet to confirm or deny any theories on that, but based on other behaviours I doubt it, sir, and not many vampires fight each other with wooden weapons."_

_"Well find out what went on in that place, for Ifrit's sake!"_

_"Sir, the boy is traumatised. I believe his family were among those killed."_

_"Boo-hoo. This is war, Sephiroth. Wars have casualties."_

_"With all due respect, sir, this was not a battlefield and the boy is not a trained warrior. This was one of our own gone rogue and the boy is a civilian."_

_"Don't you think I know that? Where's Veld? He should be in here. This is his mess!"_

_"I believe Veld is in a meeting with the president, sir, on just this matter. Shinra's reputation would not be aided by news stories about vampires within its ranks."_

_"It was one bloody Turk, that's all! You make it sound like we're completely infiltrated!"_

_"Sir, so will the media."_

_"Argh! Just … go fix the boy. Come back to me when you have his statement. He's the only survivor, so however long you have to wait, you find out what happened in Gongaga, do you hear me? Maybe we can massage this so it doesn't become a real shit-storm."_

_"Of course, sir."_

* * *

><p>To Be Continued ...<p>

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	7. Alone in Company

.

* * *

><p><strong>7. Alone in Company <strong>

* * *

><p>Zack pounded along the corridor. The lab assistant had been surprised when he woke up on the table and ripped off the brand new headgear she had been attaching. Zack's skull had been newly perforated, the other nine vials of unknown drug cocktails ready to inject themselves into his brain and nervous system. Evidently Hojo had gone hard-core again. If he couldn't cajole or force Zack's will, he would find a way to force his body into a transformation.<p>

_Well, he sure got more than he bargained for._

The shiny floor made traction difficult. Likewise the antiseptic smells that hung in the air like fog. His lupine senses sifted through, trying to find Cloud's scent-signature.

_**This way**_, Alpha commanded. The wolf left actually turning to Zack, but the directive was clear.

Zack headed left. The ground sloped a little, making it even more difficult not to crash into walls at high speed. He sprang at the wall and used it to push off, like a swimmer launching himself into another length. Alarms had yet to blare, but it was only a matter of time before someone found the unconscious assistant.

_**Here!**_Alpha barked.

Zack burst through the door. It was a lab much like the one he had left. The assistant at the terminal saw him and gaped. He smelled of old blood, sudden fear and fresh urine. Zack growled, the sound low and menacing. The guy froze for a moment in indecision.

_Don't do it –_

Too late, the guy ran for the tranquiliser gun kept in an emergency case on the wall. Zack slammed into his from behind, the impact enough to send the guy hurtling into the wall with bone-rattling speed. He slid to the floor, hopefully just unconscious, but if he wasn't, and the things Zack could smell were right, then he couldn't bring himself to grieve over one of Cloud's torturers.

In the centremost tube, Cloud hung like a marionette with tangled strings. Zack didn't hesitate. He threw himself shoulder-first at the glass. The hole was big enough to empty the evil-smelling liquid without spraying Cloud with broken glass, though Zack's shoulder stung where the shards cut him. For a moment Cloud dangled with his face upturned, the headgear almost like a noose. It snapped under the weight of a grown man and Cloud tumbled into the bottom of the cylinder. He made a weak moaning noise, nothing like words, just an exhalation of pain.

_Damn it, I can't talk to him like this_, Zack thought.

Cloud was out of it, eyes barely open as he came out of the mako-fug. There was no time to wait for him to wake properly. The moaning noise was the only clue he was still alive, since breathing and pulse points were no indication anymore.

Zack nosed his way under his friend and got him into an awkward carrying position, like a pack mule. Cloud slipped from side to side, wet skin not gelling well with fur.

_This won't work! _Zack thought in frustration. _I'm going to have to change back!_

_**Wait**_, said Alpha.

_But _–

_**Trust.**_

Slowly, Cloud's arms snaked around his neck. Zack couldn't grit his teeth in this form. He hoped the grip would be enough and took off, once again sprinting for an exit – any exit – and freedom.

* * *

><p>"<em>He doesn't respond to questioning?"<em>

"_He's practically insensate, and it's getting worse. Before he made noises. Now he just sits there."_

"_I should have known this was why you came looking for me. You only seek me out when you want a favour."_

"_Don't make me beg. The boy is a key witness in the Gongaga scandal."_

"_Is that all he is to you?"_

"_He killed a vampire on his own, untrained and using just a wooden sword – a child's plaything!"_

"_So he has potential – may even be a prodigy like yourself. Are you now doing the Turks' job and scouting for potential recruits to fight the vampires?"_

"_If I had my way, nobody would have to fight them. Just tell me whether you can help him or not."_

"_Careful, Sephiroth, your heart is showing on your sleeve."_

"_All right, all right, maybe I do feel sorry for him. His parents were among those killed. By the looks of the scene, he may have had to finish at least one of them himself. When I arrived the rogue was about to drain him. The boy was … unclothed."_

"_Unclothed? They'd stripped him?"_

"_Possibly. He definitely didn't undress himself. The clothing we recovered was torn off."_

"_You mean the vampires have sunk to even lower levels of depravity?"_

"_I don't think so. Medical tests showed no signs of sexual assault, but there may have been a ritualistic element to the blood-drinking that I interrupted. The rogue was injured – one hand newly amputated."_

"_By a wooden sword?"_

"_I don't think so. The wound was ragged, like one of the other vampires may have bitten or torn it off. Maybe there was another high level subject amongst those of the town that he infected, and they clashed when the rogue tried to control it. The point is, we won't know unless we recover our key witness. Plus …"_

"_Go on."_

"_I thought maybe … with your capabilities … I thought perhaps you could …"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Relieve him of his traumas."_

"_Sephiroth, you know better than to ask me that."_

"… _I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have asked."_

"_You really do feel sympathy for this one, don't you?"_

"_He was the only one left. The rogue slaughtered an entire town. There were corpses everywhere. Some he killed himself, others he changed and then set them on their loved ones like rabid dogs. There were … After the team swept the place, I went through it. It was horrific. A husband in one house had ripped out his wife's organs and started eating them while she was still alive. Some children had ripped apart the family dog. I found one woman slumped across a crib. She'd drained her own baby. I've been doing this work most of my life and I was affected. This boy … I can't imagine what it must have been like for him."_

"_Taking away memories isn't within my power anymore."_

"_I know. Just do what you can."_

"_I'll try my best, but I make no promises, Sephiroth. Sometimes wounds of the mind and heart are too deep for anyone to heal."_

_He heard the two voices as if from far away. He didn't move. Even when someone touched his face, he didn't flinch. He couldn't._

_He had in the beginning, when the men in uniforms poured out of the trees and swallowed up the carnage-strewn scene. He had woken to find himself under a sheet, being checked over by someone who smelled too strongly of antiseptic and blood. His skin had felt like it was on fire. The medic's touch lit up his brain with sensory input, the merest brush feeling like knives scraping off layers of epidermis. _

_Everything had suddenly smelled too strong too. Everything had sounded too loud, tasted too fierce, and looked too bright and dazzling. He had tried to huddle away from the sensations under the sheet, screaming when the medic pulled him towards her. He thought the hypersensitivity was just because he had been wrapped in the silence of unconsciousness for too long. He was wrong._

_He had been so **wrong** ever since that night._

_It didn't get better with time. The world continued to press in around him, overwhelming his senses. He couldn't talk – his voice sounded wrong and hurt his ears. He couldn't eat – even bland things made him want to throw up. He started to waste away. Dark circles appeared around his eyes when his senses denied him sleep. All the while he remembered what he had seen from the moment his mother opened his door to his father and his entire life shattered. _

_He retreated inside himself. It was kind of like meditation; forgetting the world by forgetting himself. Why would he want to stay in reality, where everything was wrong, wrong, WRONG? _

_Yet even inside his own head was a morass of wrongness. In addition to the memories of that night, he saw and remembered things that were impossible. It was as if he was recalling more than one life, none of them his own. Images flourished when he shut his eyes, fragmented and **wrong. ** Eventually to get away from everything he retreated so far inside that he barely remembered he had a body at all. He wanted to fade away where nothing could hurt him anymore. Surely he had earned it._

"_Come on now," said one of the faraway voices. "Let's see what we can do for you, shall we?"_

_Memories of blood and fire. Dodge flames. Corner deer. Nobody else brave enough to hunt while forest burns. Pack too scared – wait at edge of trees. Young alpha is foolish alpha. Prove wrong. Young alpha is **better** alpha. Deer shrieks. Fresh kill warm in his mouth. A creak. Sound of wood breaking. Turn too late. Falling branch! Pain and then blackness._

"_You've buried yourself deep in there, haven't you? But you have to come back. You have to … wait. What …?"_

"_Have you –?"_

"_Shush. Let me concentrate."_

_Crisp white snow and a brilliant moon. First howl. Only alpha gets first howl. Fought hard for this. Lived long for this. Old now. Many first howls gone. Many pups grown. Many hunts run. Many moons seen. Tired. One last howl, then lay down in snow. New alpha. Pack safe. Can rest at last._

"_Sephiroth, do you know the boy's name?"_

"_Description and records list him as 'Zack Fair'."_

"_Zack, can you hear me? Listen to my voice. Ignore everything else and listen to the sound of my voice, Zack."_

_Dark cave on a dark night. Wind howling more than pack howls at moon. Leg hurts. Steel teeth ambushed it. Paw missing. Wound black and filthy despite licking. Made pack-mates leave. Hindrance now. Alpha must be strongest, not weakest. Pack must survive. No sick in strong pack. Others tried to stay, but made them go. Stay here, in dark cave, until dark night becomes dark forever. _

"_Zack! Listen to **me** Zack!"_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_It feels like … like he's not the only one ... Zack? Zack!"_

_**Not Zack. **_

"_Who's that?"_

_**Alpha.**_

"_I want to speak to Zack."_

_**Hurt. **_

"_Hurt by the vampires?"_

_**Hurt by self. Human thing. Guilt. **_

"_Did you hurt him?"_

_**Not deliberate. Small human. Only puppy. Not strong enough yet. Had to help, but too soon. Fragile. Maybe broken.**_

"_Broken? What do you mean by broken?"_

"_What's going on? Are you talking to the boy?"_

"_I said shush, Sephiroth!"_

_**Puppy hurt. Lost pack. Heartache. Guilt. Vampire use. Nearly kill Puppy. Alpha help, but too soon. Puppy not ready. Body safe, but mindheartsoul fading.**_

"_Who are you?"_

_**Alpha.**_

"_What do you want?"_

_**Help.**_

"_Mine?"_

_**Yes. No. Help for Puppy is help for Alpha.**_

"_I don't understand."_

_**Puppy not strong enough. Can't hear Alpha. Sees pack memories, but not whole, only pieces. Alpha worried Puppy disappear or turn foam-crazed. Both bad. Alpha not want body. Puppy's body.**_

"_What does that mean?"_

_**Lose sense. Madness. Packs must kill past alphas gone foam-crazed. **_

"_That's not what I meant. What do you mean 'disappear'?"_

_**Alpha strong. Stronger than Puppy. Puppy submit. Puppy let Alpha take over. Puppy want to fade away. Alpha not want. Want Puppy alive.**_

"_How can I help?"_

_**Puppy not strong enough yet. Will be someday, but only if alive.**_

"_You're staying?"_

_**Alpha is Alpha. Puppy is Puppy. Two. One. Linked now. **_

"_I don't understand."_

_**Look. See. Understand.**_

_Images detonated like a bomb blast: a thousand lives lived, a thousand deaths died, a thousand battles for leadership fought and won, thousands of breaths taken, sights seen, paths run and meals eaten. Everything crowded together like wisps of smoke from a thousand fires twining into one impenetrable mushroom cloud. _

"_Oh my…it's you. I remember you."_

_**Help. Too much for Puppy. Easy to lose self in pack memories.**_

"_I … I don't know if I can …"_

_**Help! Puppy fading! Self DYING! Soon will be all Alpha in Puppy's body. **_

_He whimpered, in his mind and with his body. It was all too much. He just wanted to let go and vanish already!_

"_No, Zack!"_

_Something grabbed his mind roughly and dragged it into the light. The touch burned like a branding iron on bare skin. He screamed. Brilliant white light exploded everywhere. Voices rose in a chorus of incomprehensible words. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Just as suddenly as it had come, the sensations stopped. Whatever had grabbed his mind and pulled it back from the edge of oblivion let him go. _

_He gasped and opened his eyes. _

_A man crouched in front of him, holding his face in wide, calloused hands. The man had a square jaw and slightly overhanging brow that seemed custom-built for scowling, but his eyes were kind. He was breathing hard. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck._

_Over his shoulder, another man with long silver hair looked on in alarm. "Are you all right?" His green eyes widened. "He's awake! What did you do?"_

"_What I swore I wouldn't do," the crouching man panted._

"_You used it?" The silver man sounded surprised and angry. "You used your divinity?"_

"_Some of it."_

"_But I said I shouldn't have asked! You don't have enough left to –"_

"_I **know**, Sephiroth, but I had to." _

_He looked at both men, uncomprehending for a moment. "S … Sephi … roth …" His voice was croaky with disuse. How long had it been since he had spoken? He had a sense that a long stretch of time had passed between breaths. His last memory was of the canyon and the vampires. He tried to remember what had happened since then, but couldn't. His memory was hazy aside from a few, impossible facts. _

_His parents were dead._

_Gongaga was gone._

_He was alone._

"_Careful now," cautioned the crouching man. "Sephiroth, get him some water." He ordered the Silver General around like a cadet. More unbelievably, Sephiroth did as ordered. _

_He stared at the crouching man, mouth open. "Wh-where …"_

"_You're in Shinra Tower," the man said gently. "Sephiroth brought me to you when you didn't respond to regular treatments. You've been out of it for quite a while. Your name is Zack, right?"_

_He swallowed and nodded. "Who …?"_

"_My name is Angeal."_

_He blinked. He was seeing that night again, but the colours seemed muted. Everything was still clear, but it was as if someone had put a buffer in place around him, cushioning him against the shock._

_But not the grief. _

"_It's all right," Angeal soothed. "Cry it out. It's better that way."_

_He did cry, but even then, at the beginning, he knew nothing would ever be all right again._

* * *

><p><em>To Be Continued …<em>

* * *

><p><em>.<em>


	8. Freedom and Memories

_._

* * *

><p><strong>8. Freedom and Memories<strong>

* * *

><p>They had made it out. Zack could still barely believe it. After years cooped up in that place, they were free – and it turned out they had never actually left Nibelheim. The bastards had stored them under the burned out town, beneath Shinra Mansion. All that time and they hadn't even travelled a mile.<p>

Cloud moaned softly. Zack raised his eyes, but seeing on his own back was an impossible feat without turning his head, and he couldn't turn his head without slicing Cloud to ribbons.

_**Should've left behind¸ **_was Alpha's opinion. _**Too heavy.**_

Zack's mind still flinched at the touch of someone else's thoughts. He wondered whether he would ever get used to that. He owed the wolf more than he could ever repay, but sharing his mind and body with another spirit? How was he supposed to react to that prospect?

The point was moot. If Shinra recaptured them, all bets were off. For now, all that mattered was putting distance between them and Nibelheim. Zack moved at a steady, loping pace. It should have felt strange, but his wolf body felt almost natural. Each muscle he stretched was his own, as wholly as his human arms and legs had been – and hopefully would be again when he changed back.

_**Alpha promised. Zack is Zack. **_

The Buster Sword point scraped the ground. Zack raised his head, neck straining. Angeal would never forgive him if he broke it so ignominiously. The Buster Sword was a weapon for fighting monsters and vampires. If it was ever damaged, it would be in battle, not being lugged across the countryside by a wolf-man and his comatose sidekick.

_**Should've left**_, Alpha insisted.

Academically, Zack knew that would have been the sensible thing. He had wasted precious minutes jawing the thing out of the cabinet Hojo's goons had locked it inside, and it was making his muscles ache now. Even so, once he found it, he could more easily have given up breathing before leaving the sword behind.

* * *

><p>"<em>Your stance is too loose!" <em>

_Angeal leaped in, pivoted on his leading foot and brought his staff down at an angle that would have cracked Zack's skull if he hadn't blocked it in time. The clunk of wood against wood echoed around the gym and the strength of the blow sent a painful quiver running up his arms to his shoulders. Angeal was putting only a fraction of his strength into the attack and it still felt like trying to stop a train with your bare hands. _

"_Yow!"_

_Angeal moved in again, swinging the staff down in a second, similar attack. Zack brought his own staff around in a fast arc, moving closer rather than away, as was probably wise. He parried the blow, but kept going, inside Angeal's defences. His strike had carried his hands around to protect him as he stepped in close for an elbow strike._

_Zack yelped again as Angeal hooked the end of his staff between his ankles and flipped him over. The crash mat sent up a billow of dust. Zack blinked, the round end of the wood pressed against his throat._

"_Better," Angeal said. He set the staff down at his side, like a Sherpa preparing to go into the mountains, and offered his other hand to help Zack up. "You took a real risk there at the end."_

"_For all the good it did me," Zack griped, accepting the hand. He was soaked in sweat, while Angeal wasn't even out of breath. The difference in their age and experience was a factor, but he felt like a complete novice even after six months' instruction. _

"_We learn from our defeats more than our victories," Angeal intoned. _

"_Am I supposed to write that down?"_

_He smiled. It took years off his face. "I'll let it slide this time." He wasn't actually all that old – Zack pegged him at somewhere from mid to late twenties – but he had that look everyone got when they had seen too much. Zack recognised it well. He saw it when he washed his face and looked in the mirror every morning. _

_He still marvelled that he was here at all. Listening to gossip amongst the other cadets had told him Angeal was one of the Elite, a cluster of men whose exploits were rapidly passing into legend. He wasn't as well known as Sephiroth, but was just as authoritative and his name carried as much weight within Shinra. _

_Zack had learned all this after Angeal elected to become his mentor and enrolled him into the pre-SOLDIER programme, skipping him ahead of cadets who had already done a year's training. They worked tirelessly to make up the difference, and Zack's skills had come on in leaps and bounds, but nothing explained just why Angeal had chosen him out of all potential students. He had never been a mentor before. In fact, it was unusual for anyone in SOLDIER to take on students unless they were specifically assigned to cadet training. When he asked Angeal about it, however, his answers were less than satisfying._

"_You showed great promise in how you acquitted yourself in Gongaga."_

_It still hurt to hear and remember his hometown. "I nearly died, went crazy and now a bunch of my memory is missing. How is that acquitting myself with great promise?"_

"_Nobody sees their own potential the way an experienced eye sees it."_

"_Not more sayings!"_

_Angeal liked his sayings. He was full of them. Most were good advice, but after a while they got pretty tedious when all you really wanted was a straight answer. By and by, though, Zack realised he wasn't going to get one. Angeal was wise, strong, kind and stern as the situation required, but he was also stubborn as a field of mules._

"_Just accept that there is something in you that I felt deserved my attention. You've proved yourself an adept student, so the chance I took on you was worth it."_

_Zack glowed with every compliment. He would be sixteen soon – the age most boys were when they became cadets – but thanks to his work with Angeal he hadn't fallen prey to typical teenage gawkiness. In fact, he was more graceful than even those year-old cadets looking to for spots on the pre-SOLDIER programme. Ever since he joined Shinra, Zack had become infinitely comfortable in his own skin. He had overheard one of the ranking officers talk about his skills, but it was Angeal's praise he sought._

_Well, and Sephiroth's. Zack would never be able to settle up the debt he owed the Silver General. Sephiroth had saved his life and orchestrated the means by which he had been saved from his own self-destruction afterwards. As the photogenic face of SOLDIER, and Shinra in general, Sephiroth didn't spend much time here. When he was around he made time to look in on Zack and Angeal, garnering even more whispers of favouritism and resentment from the other cadets. Zack had few friends amongst them, but he didn't care. Sephiroth was **Sephiroth**, and he not only knew Zack's name, but spoke to him like an equal._

"_I think I pulled every muscle in my body," Zack complained. He arched his back, hearing several vertebrae make cricking noises. _

"_It proves you've been working hard."_

"_When can we move onto swords?"_

"_When you can beat me with a staff."_

_Zack grumbled. Angeal's sword was almost more legendary than he was. It was totally unique, with a blade wider than Zack's whole head and longer than he was tall. He couldn't understand how anyone could possibly lift it, but Angeal carted it around like it was made from tissue paper. _

_The gym door opened. A familiar figure walked in, but stopped when it spotted them on the crash mats. Angeal raised his hand in greeting. The figure didn't reply, but turned and left again. The door slammed, sounding extra loud in the empty space._

"_He still doesn't like me much, does he?" Zack murmured._

"_Nonsense," said Angeal. "He's always been ill-tempered."_

"_You used to spend a lot of time with him, didn't you?"_

_For a moment Angeal didn't answer. "We used to spend a lot of time together, yes," he said eventually. "We were together before we joined Shinra. You might even say we were like brothers."_

"_Really?" Zack felt extra bad at coming between them. He had monopolised Angeal's time for six whole months. No wonder Genesis, the third Elite SOLDIER, was pissed off._

_As if sensing these thoughts, Angeal turned to look at him. "Do **not** blame yourself. Genesis and I have been growing apart for some time. We have certain … ideological differences."_

"_What?"_

"_We just think differently about our place in the world and what we should be doing in it."_

_Zack frowned. "I don't understand." _

"_Neither does he." Angeal sighed and swung his staff up to balance on his shoulder like a bindle-stick. All he was missing was the spotted handkerchief on the end. "C'mon, Puppy. You're beginning to stink."_

"_Why do you call me that?" Zack whined. If he was going to have a nickname, it could at least be a tough-sounding one. Puppy made him sound like some small fluffy helpless thing that women cooed over. Not that he would have minded women cooing over him, but he would rather they hung off his pecs and told him how strong he was than remarked on his fluffiness. _

_Angeal smiled again. "I heard it said once and it stuck. I think it suits you."_

_Zack harrumphed and headed for the showers. _

* * *

><p><em>To Be Continued …<em>

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	9. Trust the Wolf

.

* * *

><p><strong>9. Trust the Wolf<strong>

* * *

><p>.<p>

They had to find shelter. Now he knew they were still in the Nibel mountains, Zack could begin to construct a plan. Escape was all very well, but what now? He hadn't thought much beyond getting them out of the facility. Making plans was useless until they knew what they were going to face on the outside – a battalion of SOLDIERs, maybe, or a vampire city, or an arid wasteland where Cloud would be burned to a crisp the moment the sun caught them in the open.

What they were actually facing was biting winds, snow and unstable terrain. In a stroke of complete luck, it was night-time. It was a double-edged sword, however: Cloud was safe from the sun at night, but it made navigating virtually impossible. Zack didn't know the area nearly well enough to travel through it at night. He wished Cloud was awake enough to advise him on where to go. Cloud had been born in these mountains; he knew how to survive out here. Zack was from the tropics, and while his SOLDIER survival training was useful, in extreme conditions nothing beat the voice of an expert.

_**Go north,**_Alpha said on cue.

_You're going to be my expert?_

_**Wolves lived here many lifetimes**__,_ Alpha said cryptically. _**Go north.**_

Zack turned his face into the wind. Even his altered vision was blind. Superior nose and ears were worthless in weather like this. His thick coat protected him for the most part, but his paws and undercarriage were numb. He blinked snowflakes out of his eyes and snorted them from his nostrils.

Cloud clung on regardless. He still hadn't woken up. He was naked in a blizzard, but he was a vampire. It wasn't like he needed to retain body heat anymore. Zack couldn't be glad about that, but at least it meant his friend wouldn't freeze to death.

_What's north? _he asked Alpha.

_**Safe place.**_

_How do you know? Have you been here before? It's not a Shinra outpost, is it? Or a sympathetic village? Are wolves common in these mountains, or will they think it's unusual to see one? What am I saying? Of course it'd be unusual to see a naked guy riding a gigantic wolf through the wilderness. All this cold must be freezing my brain –_

_**Humans talk too much. Go north!**_

Zack couldn't smile, but his ears twitched. Who knew wolves could sound grumpy? _All right, all right, north it is. I'm trusting you to know what you're talking about._

_**Trust good. Alpha trusting Zack with wolf body right now.**_

_This is your body?_ Zack had thought this was his own body twisted into a different shape. That was bizarre enough. Now he was supposed to accept he was actually in a body part-exchange with the sentient wolf in his head?

_**All wolf bodies are Alpha's.**_

_What? _

Zack shivered. He had accepted Alpha for the time being, though he still didn't fully understand who or what he was, or the nature of their relationship. Zack now knew he wasn't a werewolf. Equally clear was the fact that Alpha had been around, inside Zack, for far longer than he had realised. All things considered, Zack thought he was doing a pretty good job of rolling with the punches. He supposed he should be getting used to it by now – first Gongaga and his parents, then SOLDIER, then that awful business with Genesis and Angeal, not to mention Sephiroth vamping out and infecting Cloud, and their stint in Hojo's lab – but this was still pushing it. His disbelief was suspended so far it was a mere speck in the sky.

_If I wasn't walking on four legs right now, I'd think I was going nuts._

_**Zack is Zack, **_Alpha insisted**. **_**Alpha is wolf and Alpha is wolves, so Zack is wolf too, but Zack is still Zack. Hard to explain. Too long. Go north now. Explain later.**_

Snow splattered Zack's vision. He shook himself to fluff up his fur for extra insulation. Cloud clung on like a limpet. _Works for me_.

….

_He hurried along the corridor. Angeal had said he would be in the medical wing for his check-up. The medical officer's refusal to reschedule was why he hadn't been able to go to the announcement board this morning. Almost bursting with excitement, Zack rushed to tell his mentor the good news._

"_Angeal!" He couldn't slam open the door, since they were automatic and slid along runners with a noise like a choir humming. Still, before it was even halfway open, he was calling. "Angeal, guess what?"_

_The room was empty. Shiny metal surfaces covered the place from top to bottom. Bottles of brightly coloured liquids sat on the side, splashes of colour along with posters warning against missing check-ups and not getting your regular mako treatments. Stern depictions of Sephiroth's face glared down from the walls, menacing anyone who even considered skipping an appointment. _

"_Hello?" Zack looked around. "Is anyone here?"_

_This was only part of the medical wing. Zack had been in the emergency subdivision, most recently when he broke his arm during a training exercise. It was always a hive of activity. This was unnerving in comparison. _

"_Hello?" Uncertainly, he advanced into the room, and became instantly aware of voices behind a door at the back. One sounded familiar, though it spoke too low for him to make out actual words. "Hello? Angeal?" Zack hesitated. Should he wait out here or knock? Where were the doctors and nurses? His enthusiasm bubbled inside him like a pot of boiling water with an ill-fitting lid._

"_You're not **listening**!" someone shouted loud enough for even some who wasn't eavesdropping to hear. _

"_I am," Angeal replied sombrely. _

"_No, you're hearing me, but you're not listening to me."_

"_I think most of Shinra is listening to you right now. Keep your voice down."_

"_I've kept silent too long, Angeal! This isn't the way it was meant to be. I've played along with your ill-advised schemes since the beginning, but not anymore."_

"_We have to stay. They need us."_

"_They don't! They never have! You're just too blind to see that they're perfectly fine on their own! Look at what they've built since we came to them – most of it without our direct involvement. They can cope with whatever the future brings and they don't need us to hold their hands while they do it."_

"_And the vampires? Should we just ignore them too?"_

"_We should be concentrating on ourselves."_

"_That's exactly the kind of thinking that nearly destroyed everything before. At least here, right now, like this, we can do some good to try to make up for that."_

"_I take it back; have you listened to **yourself**? You're trying to be a martyr. I've seen you out there, training and fighting, going on missions you used to dismiss out of hand. Now you struggle. You never even struggled to keep up with Sephiroth before."_

"_He's a very talented warrior. He was always the most genuinely talented of the three of us."_

"_Because his gifts are earthly? Ours are barely more than that anymore. Yours may even be lower than that. You're nearly dry, aren't you?"_

"_I have mako treatments like any other SOLDIER."_

"_You're not any other SOLDIER. How much do you have left?"_

"_What business is it of yours?"_

"_You idiot! Once your reserves gone, that's it!"_

"_That's my choice to make."_

"_And me? What about me, Angeal?"_

"_You have your own choices to make."_

"_That's not what I meant and you know it. If you use up your reserves and … if you … then I'll be …"_

"_You're acting like it's inevitable."_

"_Keep going this way and it will be. I've seen you, Angeal. You push yourself too hard, especially for that stupid child. Why you ever decided to mentor him, I can't fathom. All he does is drain you –" _

"_What I choose to focus my energies on is not for you to judge."_

"_It is if it's making you act irrationally."_

"_It's not me who's acting irrational."_

"_I fell with you. I won't die with you too."_

"_And that's **your** choice to make."_

"_We weren't meant to die, Angeal."_

"_Technically, we weren't meant to live."_

"_But we **are** alive. We fought for it, to make our own choices, and we paid the price for it. I refuse to squander the time I fought for on these pathetic, ungrateful little … **people**."_

"_Whatever you choose to do, I won't stop you."_

"_You couldn't even if you tried."_

_Zack sprang away from the door at the approaching footsteps. He crashed into a trolley, sending a tray of implements cascading to the floor. Frantically he tried to pick them up, but stopped when the door wrenched open and a shadow fell across him. _

_Genesis's expression was something between a snarl and a grimace. It switched to disgust when his eyes fell on Zack. "You." He didn't need to say anything else. Revulsion dripped off the word like poison off a viper's bared fangs._

_Zack squared his shoulders. He refused to be cowed – not today. "I was looking for Angeal."_

"_Of course you're looking for him." Genesis's lip curled. "You're his little lapdog, after all."_

_With some effort, Zack kept his voice level. "Have you seen him?"_

_Genesis jerked a thumb over his shoulder and left. He couldn't slam the door either, but somehow it seemed to slide shut more forcefully for him than it had behind Zack._

_Zack turned his attention to the back room. Screw Genesis. His news filled his mind almost to the exclusion of all else. "Angeal?"_

_Angeal sat on the end of an examination table, boots flat against the floor, hands clasped and pressed against his mouth as if in deep thought. Zack had never seen him go to church, but he looked almost like he was praying. _

"_Well?"_

_All trepidation fell away at his mentor's wide grin. He had never doubted his student. Zack gave a thumb's up, glad he was worthy of such faith. "You're looking at the newest SOLDIER Third Class."_

"_I knew you could do it." Angeal got up and clapped him on the back. It still sent Zack stumbling forwards a few steps, but he didn't mind. He was a SOLDIER. Soon he would have his first mako shots; then not even Angeal's pats would knock him off his feet._

_Zack frowned a little in thought. "Angeal, are you okay?"_

"_Of course. I told you, this was just a check-up prior to my next mako treatment."_

"_Yeah, but …" Now he had shared his news, the strange conversation he had overheard resurfaced in Zack's mind. "You'd tell me if you were sick, right?"_

_Angeal gave him a puzzled look. "What brought this on?"_

"_Wouldn't you?" Zack insisted._

_Angeal hesitated maybe a second too long before saying, "Yes, I would tell you if I was sick."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Zack, what's the matter? Are **you** sick?"_

"_Me? I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle. Fit as a flea. Fit as … a SOLDIER Third Class." Zack beamed. _

_Angeal shook his head. "Congratulations. You deserve this. You've worked hard for it."_

_Angeal never lied or broke his word. He seemed incapable of being untruthful. Ergo, whatever he and Genesis had been talking about, it wasn't Angeal's health. That made their conversation even more confusing, but also dispelled the worst of Zack's concerns. It was one more piece in the mysterious puzzle that was his mentor's past, and yet another mystifying thing about his friendship – if you could even call it that – with Genesis. Why **did** that man hate Zack so much, anyhow? _

"_Now, I think I mentioned something about a gift if you made Third Class?" Angeal said._

_Zack's reply was whiplash-fast. "Dinner at Chez Henri's, and I get to make them bring ketchup to the table."_

"_Ketchup at one of the fanciest restaurants in all Midgar?" Angeal's expression spoke volumes. "They won't like that."_

"_You said I could order whatever I wanted. Steak tastes awful without ketchup."_

_Angeal ruffled his hair indulgently. "Okay, since I promised, I can't go back on my words now. A man's worth is judged by the company and promises he keeps."_

"_Hey! Quit that!" Zack ducked away from the ruffling. "I'm not a little kid, y'know. Especially today."_

"_Say what you want; while you still order ketchup at every meal, you'll always be a puppy to me."_

_._

* * *

><p><strong><em>To Be Continued ...<em>**

* * *

><p><em>.<em>


	10. Turnip Boy and the Vampire Ninjas

.

* * *

><p><strong>10. Turnip Boy and the Vampire Ninjas<strong>

* * *

><p>.<p>

It wasn't really a cabin, but it wasn't really a cave either. It was what you might get if a cabin and cave had an illicit love affair, produced an offspring and then abandoned it in the woods. The roof and floor were solid rock, providing shelter from the storm, if not heat to warm anyone inside. The front wall of wooden planks needed repairing, allowing Zack to see inside. The broken gaps in the back planks showed a tunnel that seemed to go on and on, deep into the labyrinth interior of the mountain.

If Zack could have, he would have whistled. Puzzling over who had made the place wasn't top priority right now, however. His acute senses told him it was long-abandoned and Alpha told him it was what they had been looking for.

_**Safe. Den. **_

_How do you even know about this place if you've been stuck in the labs with me this whole time?_

_**Alpha has knowledge of all alphas. Wolves live in mountains.**_There was no more explanation, as if this was all that was needed.

Zack sighed inwardly. This was far from the weirdest thing ever to happen to him, and far from the worst. The prospect of shelter was a tantalising one. Plus, he was eager to find out whether Alpha's promise held true, and he would be able to resume his human body once they were safe and he wasn't likely to die of frostbite.

The door opened with a jiggle of the latch. Zack nosed the gap carefully and closed it with a push of one hind paw. The furnishings were sparse and definitely opted for functionality over charm. The space was divided into two distinct areas, with a pallet-bed on one side and an old-fashioned stove on the other, its spout stretching up out of the ceiling like a submarine periscope. A pile of cut logs and twigs for kindling were stored in a sealed storage container to keep them from getting damp. A few quick sniffs also unearthed a closet with items of clothing inside. They smelled musty, as if they hadn't been worn in a long time, but still beat being buck naked in winter. A single pair of boots sat in the bottom, sturdy as stone but ugly as hell. They were men's boot, which begged the question: why was there a skirt next to the oilskin on the hangar above?

Zack shucked Cloud onto the pallet with difficulty and some very bendy moves. Glancing around and sniffing to make sure the scents here really were as old as they seemed, he mentally gathered himself.

_I need to change back now._

_**Very cold.**_ Alpha didn't disagree, but did call attention to this point. _**Fur is warmer.**_

_Regardless, I … need to be me again. _This would be the test. Last time he had forced the issue. Would Alpha keep the promise to relinquish this wolf form for Zack's human one?

In reply, Zack felt something unclench. His body suddenly loosened, as if suffering the after-effects of adrenaline or a muscle relaxant. He bent his head, things inside beginning to slurp and crunch. Wolves couldn't grit their teeth against pain, so when he could he knew his face had started to revert to human. He panted and whined, vocal chords some of the last things to turn back. It was intensely surreal to watch your snout turn back into nose and lips, to feel your fangs blunting and have colour return to your vision, and be more concerned with the fact your ass was bare and it was cold.

Zack swore as he scrambled for some of the clothes in the closet. They were either too big, too small or too female, so he opted for a mishmash based solely on fabric thickness and heat retention. He looked more like a hobo than not, but after years of living in a glass tube at someone else's behest, he could deal with that. He sighed in relief as he wrapped himself up in layers.

Shaking out tingly hands, Zack turned his attention to Cloud. Cloud hadn't moved since being dumped on the pallet. His hands were still linked together, as they had been to stop him falling off while Zack loped across the countryside. He stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly. His skin seemed even paler than it had in captivity. Picking out items from what was left in the closet, Zack crossed the room and manhandled his friend into a sitting position.

"C'mon, Cloud. Have some decency, huh?"

Cloud's head flopped onto his chest; a chest that didn't rise or fall. If he hadn't kept up that blinking, Zack would have thought him really dead.

_He is dead_, thought a traitorous bit of his brain. _Cloud's a vampire, remember? Ergo, deader than a doornail but still walking around._ Zack shook him. Cloud didn't respond. _Just without the walking around part. _

"What did they do to you, buddy?"

Cloud didn't reply.

_Don't freak out,_ Zack told himself sternly. _Stay practical. Take this situation one step at a time. You broke out. You got away. You found a hiding place. You're back to being human. You're dressed. Next, dress Cloud. Find or make a heat source so you don't freeze to death. Figure out everything else after that. Don't focus too long on the big picture. Stick to the small stuff first._

_**Good plan,**_Alpha agreed.

Zack paused in raising Cloud's arms to wiggle a shirt over his head. He swallowed, mouth dry. "Thank you." _Thank you._ He thought and said the words in tandem, not knowing which would be better now he could talk using his mouth.

_**Alpha looks after own pack.**_

"Not for that. For … changing me back."

_**Not Alpha's work. Zack turned for own self. Alpha's strength and body, but Zack's own power.**_

Zack wasn't sure he understood, but there was lots he didn't understand; like exactly who or what Alpha was. He pushed that thought away and went back to focussing on immediate matters.

When he had finished dressing his friend, Cloud looked even more like a hobo than Zack himself did. even so, Zack tilted his head and nodded, satisfied at his handiwork. He reached out on impulse and smoothed Cloud's damp hair off his forehead. Cloud wasn't sweaty, but he gave off no body-heat to dry his hair after being outside in the snow. His skin was cold to the touch.

"This is going to be tough," Zack murmured.

He had to alter his way of thinking to compensate until Cloud was back on his feet. Even then, Cloud wouldn't be the guy Zack had known before Hojo took them. Zack was used to thinking of vampires as enemies. It was ingrained into him; every encounter he had ever had with a vampire was adversarial. Yet Cloud was still Cloud. He wasn't some blood-sucking leech bent on slaughtering people.

Zack remembered things that had happened in the labs; things both he and Cloud had been put through; things that had been done to them, or that they had seen done to each other. He recalled Cloud's reactions when they had dragged Zack out of his tube and tried to force him to shapeshift however they could. Cloud had battered his fists bloody against his tube, and actually cracked the glass before they got him under control. By the end of that session, Zack had found it difficult to tell which side of the glass had more blood on it. Nobody who reacted with that kind of anger and grief could be the kind of creature Zack had spent his career eradicating. Vampires were remorseless predators. Cloud was still Cloud.

Or he had been, until they broke him. Now he wasn't a predator, but he wasn't Cloud anymore either. He was a vegetable.

Zack shook his head. _Stop that. He'll recover. Remember how he latched onto you when you broke him out? He responded to the situation. That's a good sign. He's still in there; he's still Cloud, he's just gone inside himself for a while. You hear stories about people who cope with traumatic events by going into a vegetative state. It doesn't mean they're actually vegetables. _

"You're a temporary veggie," he said out loud. "I'll call you Turnip Boy until you wake up and tell me not to."

_**Faith good**_, said Alpha. **Different strength still strength.**

"Yeah." Zack's throat bobbed. His mouth didn't seem any less dry despite the compulsive swallowing. _I just hope it's enough._

* * *

><p><em>Zack had seen blood before, but it had never seemed as red as the stuff coming out of Angeal. He fought the urge to throw up. SOLDIERs didn't throw up on the battlefield. They didn't throw up at all, but especially not on the battlefield. <em>

"_It's okay," he said, fumbling in his pack. If he could just find his Phoenix Feather, this could be fixed up in a jiffy. Every SOLDIER was issued with one in case of emergency. This definitely counted. "Just hold still, Angeal and let me –"_

"_Get down!" Angeal shoved him aside. _

_Zack hit the dirt. It wasn't a good landing. Air whooshed from his lungs. First-year cadets could have done better. He scrambled back to his feet, but Angeal's sword was already clanging against those of the Wutaian guerrillas who had leapt out of the trees. Angeal grunted in a combination of pain and effort. Meeting the blow that would have taken off Zack's head meant he had released the hold he'd had on his stomach wound. Blood poured forth, streaming down his uniform and onto the ground. He whipped around, decapitating one opponent and moving onto the next in a single move, but a bloody trail marked his progress._

_Zack yanked his own sword from the magnetic brace strapped across his back. Mimicking Angeal's swing, he waded into the fray. He managed to reach his mentor so they could adopt their tried and tested back-to-back stance, which let them protect each other while cutting chunks out of any enemy who approached. Since they were both skilled, if not exactly parallel in combat-experience, this usually worked to finish fights quickly. This time, however, Zack was acutely aware of every move and sound Angeal made – including the splash and drip of blood and sweat that only a SOLDIER's enhanced hearing could pick up. _

_This was supposed to be a simple mission. For a long time, Shinra had harboured suspicions that the Wutaian royal court had secretly been infiltrated by vampires, but there had been no proof. The royal family themselves were human – they went out in daylight, ate regular food and didn't need to disguise red eyes that even shone through coloured contact lenses – but several top-ranking members of their court had fallen to the virus. Those vampires had executed an equally secret coup, according to intelligence agents Shinra had dispatched overseas, and were mobilising the Wutaian army to start a war that would, they planned, not kill a single adversary, but instead infect them and so spread the vampire disease exponentially. Zack and Angeal were part of a covert team to locate and cut off the head of the snake – easier said than done when dealing with a nation that had already been ninjas before they were vampires. _

"_Vampire ninjas?" Zack had said when presented with the mission brief. When Angeal didn't laugh too, he had followed up with a disbelieving, "Are they serious?"_

"_Never underestimate the unbelievability of the truth."_

"_This isn't unbelievable; it's just incredibly bizarre – like something out of a late night B-movie."_

_Except that the blood hitting the ground right now wasn't ketchup and the screams weren't part of a pre-recorded soundtrack. You could train very day for ten years and it wouldn't prepare you for real combat – not really. The smell was the worst thing. Zack's super-sensitive nose was filled with the scents of mouldy leaf litter, gore and … gunpowder?_

"_Bomb!" he yelled as he added two and two together to get an explosive four. "Angeal, get –"_

_The world lit up bright white. Moments later, Zack felt the impact. It was like being hit by a train. The force slammed into him, lifting him of his feet. He was already in the air before the noise arrived, late to the party but no less deafening. Zack lost all sense of time and place. Moments telescoped into hours. Then reality crashed back around him in a flurry of movement too frenetic and scattered for even his senses to track. He smacked against a tree and slid to the ground, dazed, as bits of foliage and other debris thumped down around him. His ears rang and spots danced before his eyes as his spine screamed and his whole body shuddered with the aftermath of being caught in the blast. _

"_Angeal …" he murmured. His voice sounded like he was speaking through layers of wet cotton wool. His lips were bleeding, filling his mouth with the taste of blood. He swallowed it and tried to get up. Would vampire senses be as badly affected by an explosion? "An … ge …al …" He coughed on another mouthful of blood. Apparently he had bitten right through his cheek and loosened some teeth. His gums were bleeding and his hairline was also wet and sticky. One cheek stung like his knees used to when he fell over and skinned them on the dirt roads around Gongaga. _

_How close had he been to the bomb? He hadn't seen the actual thing, just felt its effects. Maybe that meant it had gone off too early. Maybe the vampires had done the job and offed themselves. Maybe –_

_No such luck._

_Someone gripped Zack's shoulder and roughly dragged him to his feet. Zack swayed, forced to brace one hand on the tree that had nearly snapped his spine. The bark was knobbly and strafed with gashes that oozed sap where debris had slashed past. A piece of corrugated metal had dug into the trunk. It was smoking. Zack realised that it was part of a headband Wutaian warriors traditionally wore to identify their clans and ranks. He hadn't kept hold of his sword, which he also realised at that moment. He raised his fists, trying to look threatening and thinking about the stakes on his belt and boots. Could he whip them out before a vamp bit him?_

"_Idiotic child."_

_The voice was as welcome as it was unanticipated. Zack squinted at the blurry outline walking away from him. "Genesis?" He had never been glad to see the man before. It was a new and disconcerting sensation._

_All around them was a web of destruction. Things hung from the trees, strips of stringy … something-or-other stretched between them. Zack had made taffy with his mother once, before she realised he was a menace in the kitchen. The saltwater candy stretched and bowing between his hands and his mother's came back to his mind now. Except that the taffy had been rolled in flour to stop it sticking to their hands, so it hadn't dripped like the streamers on these broken and leaning trees._

_Genesis knelt next to something on the ground. With a sickening lurch, Zack understood what it was, and also what was scattered around them. The smell of gore lay thicker than ever under the scent of burning, as dismembered body-parts caught light from the forest around them. The damage he saw as his vision cleared was not the kind inflicted by an explosion, but the kind dispensed by a blade and a righteous fury. Zack squinted at the taffy-things, and then had to look away. The discarded face of a dead Wutaian stared up at him from the ground. There was nothing else; just his face, set forever in a rictus of fear. He may have been a vampire, but he had died in agony. Zack's gorge rose. He locked his legs to stop himself from falling to his knees._

_Genesis said something to Angeal. Zack's breath caught, but released when his mentor replied haltingly. Angeal was alive! _

_And Genesis had done this. He had attacked those vampires. Had he caused the explosion? Surely not, if the way he was tending Angeal now was anything to go by. He wouldn't have put his friend in the way of a blast like that. _

_He had attacked the vampires, though, and in only a few minutes he had literally ripped them apart. Angeal's style of fighting – and Zack's by corollary – was to end battles quickly and cleanly. He had spent months getting Zack to perfect victories in a single sword slice or a single stake stab, and spent extra time making sure Zack could throw a stake using his SOLDIER strength to punch through a ribcage and pierce a vampire's heart from a distance. _

_Genesis punched the ground with that same strength, his voice rising. Zack had never witnessed Genesis's fighting style before this. He was almost glad. This wasn't combat; it was carnage. How could a man show that kind of concern for his friend and also be capable of this? It just didn't add up. **Genesis** didn't add up. _

"_I told you!" Genesis snapped. "But would you listen?"_

_Angeal said something that only seemed to enrage him. _

"_Their fight isn't ours! You'd sacrifice yourself for them, and for what? They don't even know who you are! You're just another tool to them. They don't know what you'd be throwing away! And if they did, they probably wouldn't care!"_

_Angeal coughed. There must have been words in it, since Genesis replied in a voice tight with fury. _

"_I came looking for you, of course. Their rules mean nothing to me. Not anymore."_

_Angeal coughed wetly. Genesis cursed. _

"_This is the last time, old friend." What should have been a term of endearment instead came out as a sneer. "I told you I wouldn't die with you, but I'll give you once last chance to live along with me." He pressed both palms flat against Angeal's upturned chest. _

_Zack focussed and nearly threw up for real. Angeal's breastplate was mangled, bits of torn flesh melted into the metal. He hadn't been able to distinguish the level of damage before, thanks to a thin layer of black dust, but sharp white ribs poked through at different angles. Angeal's wet coughs made much more sense now. It was a miracle he was alive at all, let alone able to talk. Could a Phoenix Feather cure that? Zack took a juddering step, looking for his pack before thinking that it must have been destroyed in the explosion too –_

_Angeal gasped. Zack took another few steps towards his mentor, but stopped as a soft glow filled the crater. It was nothing like the bright light from before. The hairs on the back of Zack's neck stood on end. His mouth fell open as Genesis's hands flared white, then blue, then a colour too hard to look at. Angeal gasped out a word. It sounded like 'no', or maybe 'don't', but something like static electricity washed over Zack, blotting out everything. He tried to fight it, but it was too strong._

_He awoke on his side. The blood on his face and in his hair had dried. He sat up, then rolled sideways and immediately threw up. Dragging a wrist across his mouth and breathing hard, he looked around. He was still in the crater, still surrounded by the destruction of the bomb and Genesis's attack, but the small fires had either burned out or been doused._

"_Angeal!" Zack spun to where he had been laying, but there was nobody there. Both Angeal and Genesis were gone. "No, no, no," Zack mumbled, clambering woozily to his feet. He stumbled a little, but managed to turn in a small circle until his gaze came to rest on a figure just inside the tree-line. "Angeal? Angeal!"_

_The figure turned. It **was** Angeal, alive and whole and … wait a second. Zack stopped. Angeal's breastplate had been removed. It lay where he had before, still twisted beyond repair and coated with dry blood. It had been warped right into Angeal's body. No way could it have been extracted and Angeal's chest be as whole and uninjured as what Zack was looking at. Even a SOLDIER's enhanced healing would have taken days, weeks, maybe even months to heal a wound like that, if it could have healed it at all. A vampire's healing ability, on the other hand …_

_Zack backed off. He wished he had his sword. Spying the short curved blade Wutaian ninjas used, he snatched it up from the ground and held it out. It wasn't a sword, but it was better than nothing. He also got out a stake of his own, saw it had been splintered, tossed it and took out another one. This one was fine and he gripped it tight._

"_Please don't be a vamp," he prayed softly. "Don't be infected. Not you. Don't be infected. I can't stake you. I can't –" _

"_Zack." It was Angeal's voice, but filled with a tiredness Zack had never heard from him before. It was more than just physical exhaustion. "It's fine. I'm not a vampire."_

_Zack swallowed. "Prove it." He remembered his lessons. Vamps were wily. They tried to trick you however they could, especially if they had known you while they were alive. He shut out images of his father, but a few slivers leaked through. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't face down someone he was close to and see the bloodlust in their eyes as the virus twisted their genes into unnatural shapes. "Prove to me you're not infected."_

_Angeal took a step._

_Zack brandished the blade. "Stop right there!"_

_Angeal held up his hands. "I'm unarmed." It was true; the Buster Sword, which he always carried, was no longer on his back._

_Zack frowned. "Where's your sword?"_

"_On the ground." Angeal nodded to the side of Zack. "Just over there."_

_Zack risked a glance. Indeed, the sword was there. He looked back at Angeal, who hadn't moved a muscle. Zack's eyes narrowed. "How come you're not injured anymore?"_

"_Genesis did it," Angeal said simply._

"_He used Phoenix Feather?"_

_Angeal shook his head, but didn't offer further explanation._

"_What was that weird light?"_

_Angeal hesitated._

"_What was it?" Zack's voice rose despite himself. The traumas of the last few hours weighed heavily on him, creating hairline cracks beneath his surface. This was his first combat as a Second Class. It was nothing like the missions he had been sent on as a Third Class. Right now, he could have happily quite SOLDIER altogether, if it meant never being in this sort of situation again. "Tell me!"_

"_His special talent," Angeal replied. "Or one of them."_

"_What?"_

"_He used some of his own life force to heal me." Angeal's eyes lowered. "I was dying, Zack. He saved my life."_

"_He … what?" Zack had never heard of anything like that before. "People can do that?"_

"_He can."_

_Something niggled at the back of Zack's brain; a half-forgotten memory of long ago, when he first met Angeal. "Can you?"_

_Another hesitation, though shorter this time. "I used to. I don't have the strength anymore."_

_Zack stared at him, this man who had come to mean so much to him in a relatively short time. Zack knew he had craved a parental figure since the vampires destroyed his family and home, but more than that, he had longed for a friend and confidante. Angeal seemed to fulfil all those roles. His respect and approval had come to mean more to Zack than anything else. He relied on the stability Angeal brought to his life. This threatened that, and something deep within Zack rebelled at the idea. It brought down shutters in his mind, refusing to let him contemplate the idea that Angeal could be more or less than he seemed. Angeal was Angeal. As long as he was still the Angeal Zack knew, not a vampire, then that was good enough. _

"_Are you human?" Zack asked bluntly. _

_This time there was no hesitation. "Yes."_

"_Still?"_

"_Yes, Zack, I'm human."_

_Slowly, Zack edged forward. He didn't need to be right next to Angeal; just close enough for his superior sight to see …_

"_You don't have red eyes," Zack sighed with relief. "And you have a pulse." He could see the vein in Angeal's exposed neck, beating rhythmically below the surface of his skin. "You're alive." Finally, the pressure weighing on Zack broke through. He dropped to his knees, not thinking about how there might be other ninjas in the forest, drawn by the noise; or that anything else horrible could happen to them today. "You're alive, Angeal."_

_Angeal swept over and put his hands on Zack's shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Yes, I'm alive, Zack. Don't you space out on me." He stared into Zack's eyes. "Your pupils are dilated. That's to be expected. Concentrate on the sound of my voice, Puppy."_

"_Don't … call me … that." Angeal shook his shoulders some more. Zack bent his neck, realising that it wasn't Angeal, but him. His whole body shook, as if in the middle of an epileptic fit. "What about … Genesis?"_

"_He's gone," Angeal said._

_Zack shook his head. "But later, what about –"_

"_No, Zack, he's **gone**. He deserted."_

"_Deserted … Shinra?"_

_Angeal nodded, anguish in his face. So many emotions that Zack had never seen in him before today. "He's gone," he said again. "For good."_

_Zack watched him. "He asked you to go with him, didn't he?"_

_Angeal nodded again. _

"_But you didn't."_

"_No, I didn't."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because, although Genesis and I once agreed about most things, our beliefs have grown with us over time, and it seems they've grown in different directions."_

"_But you're … friends. He … saved … your life." Zack's teeth were chattering. He dropped the blade and stake, wrapping his arms around his middle. "I'm so cold …"_

"_You're going into shock," Angeal said briskly. "PTS, probably. Come on, Puppy. We need to get you to medical attention."_

"_But Genesis –"_

"_Made his choice." Angeal hauled Zack to his feet, pulling one arm over his shoulders and around the back of his neck, so as to support him as they both walked. For a man who had been dying only a short time ago, he was now the pillar of strength while Zack crumbled – again. "And I made mine."_

_Zack didn't say another word as they stumbled off into the forest, stopping only for Angeal to pick up the Buster Sword._

"_Here," he said, attaching it to Zack's magnetic brace. "My harness isn't much use anymore. You carry it and I'll help carry you. Just you make sure you look after it. That sword is very special."_

"_A gift from your family?" Zack remembered some story about relatives and sacrifice in order for Angeal to get the sword._

"_Something like that."_

_._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>.<em>


	11. Secret Witch

.

* * *

><p><strong>11. Secret Witch<strong>

* * *

><p>Shinra Tower was the highest point in all Midgar. That made it entirely wrong for Cissnei's purposes. What she had in mind required being low to the ground – or, preferably, under it. Unfortunately, in Midgar that meant only one thing: the sewers.<p>

"Fantasy books that talk about magic like it's all sparkles and pixie dust should be burned," she muttered as she waded through effluent. "Where the hell is it?"

She opened her senses a little, not enough to be overwhelmed, but enough to feel out her surroundings. Technically, opening even your inner eye without a proper shield was too dangerous to even attempt, but she was confident she could handle the stress. She felt the hot-cold flow of the leyline to her left, shut her inner eye and turned in that direction. Reduced to her five regular senses and aided by a torch, she splashed her way to her destination.

A dead rat floated where she wanted to go. She raised her boot to push it away, hoping the wavelets of her footsteps would keep it going in that direction. A small shelf ran along either side of the tunnel, handy for Cissnei, even if it was icky. She had come prepared: gloves that went all the way to the elbow, waterproof boots and waxen dungarees. The get-up was meant for fishermen in faraway lakes that didn't have all the turds of the slums flowing into them. Even her pouches had been stuffed into a waterproof bag and slung over her back to keep them out of the muck.

"This is why I prefer doing this while on assignment outside the city." She sighed. "I'm standing in a sewer, surrounded by shit, talking to myself. Can my life get any lower?"

The rat bumped against her shin. It had floated back like a rotting puppy eager for affection.

"I had to ask."

The leyline enveloped her the moment she stepped into it. Invisible to the naked eye and unfelt by anyone without magic, the current of energies that crisscrossed the planet were a booster for the weird and bizarre. Cissnei didn't like to count herself in either camp, but it was difficult to deny when the merest touch of leyline energy was enough to make all her senses tingle and her inner eye itch.

_Not yet¸ _she told herself. _Don't get ahead of yourself. Go slowly. That's it. Sloooowly._

It was easy for the inexperienced to get drunk on leyline energy. It was even easier to absorb too much and burn out your brain. When people OD-ed on whatever was the latest drug craze, Cissnei privately wondered whether they were leyline users who had gone too far. There was no way to find out. She had learned that early on in her career, when Veld found her and pulled her out of the slums. Shinra was the biggest superpower in the world, their research and development sectors targeting everything from soap, televisions and phones to vampire warfare, artificial intelligence and supernatural experimentation. Veld had spent his professional life evading detection by their scientists; even going so far as to become head of their intelligence agency so he could direct attention anywhere other than himself. Veld had controlled information, which, he taught Cissnei, was far more important than controlling the most magic. It wasn't about power, but finesse. And finesse meant you sometimes had to get your feet covered in literal crap to avoid the rest of you being hitting with the metaphorical kind.

Veld had sensed the potential in her when she was still just a child. Other people may have questioned his decision to train her as an agent before she even hit puberty, but Veld had known that to wait was to risk Cissnei becoming like a lot of young amateur magic-users – selfish, power-hungry and liable to burn out early, or permanently blotto on magical energy and destined for an early grave. From Veld, Cissnei had learned how to sense magic, how to harness and manipulate it, and also how to respect it. Arguably, this last was the most important. He had also taught her restraint, which had come in especially handy when he found the daughter he had been secretly searching for and deserted Shinra to take care of her. Elfé was the reason behind most of Veld's lessons. She had come into her magic as a pre-pubescent, around the time Veld's career was really taking off in Shinra. Ironically, he devoted even more of his time to his job to keep her off their radar. In so doing, he managed to convince Elfé that he didn't love her. She had become involved with some secret magical commune, looking for the love and acceptance she thought her father didn't have for her. Eventually she had run off with them, not realising the commune was a front for an organisation bent on toppling Shinra and taking over their resources for their own reprehensible goals. At least, that was how Cissnei understood it. Veld hadn't exactly sat her down and explained the situation before sodding off into the sunset with his real, biological, totally insane daughter.

Unfortunately the people Elfé involved herself with had manipulated her gifts to the point where she separated from her sanity. She created a new identity for herself; one Veld had to break through when they met again, years later. The people had kept her going even after she went mad, trying to use her magic like some sort of superglue to infuse human bodies with vampire strength, agility and super-senses, while leaving out the nasty, bloody bits of the virus. Needless to say, it hadn't worked, and the super-race had fallen flat on its face before getting off the starting blocks. Veld and his carefully chosen intelligence agents had gone some way to making sure that happened, and some of them had gone with him to help repair the damage done to Elfé. Each agent had his or her own special power, each of them eager for Shinra not to know about it. They were happy to lend themselves to the war against the vampires, but their talents were so unique, they weren't happy to let Shinra's pet scientists poke and prod at them.

"Those who control the information control everything, whether or not them can crush rocks into powder with their minds, or set building on fire by clicking their fingers," Veld had said when he first met Cissnei and convinced her to come work for him. "Flashy people who let themselves get noticed all the time? They're idiots who don't live too long. Careful people who learn their limits and keep their secrets? Their lifespan is their own damn business and there ain't nobody who can tell them what to do with their lives."

"I hope I'm making you proud, old man," Cissnei muttered, reaching for her pouches.

She took a pinch of piquant herb and crushed it between her thumb and forefingers under her nose. The sharp scent kept her focussed on the physical world, so her mind couldn't drift away into the leyline's flow.

Thus focussed, she concentrated. A face took shape in her mind. She couldn't be sure this was how he looked now, and had to trust her memory was accurate enough compared to the real thing four years down the line. Spike black hair with a piece that refused to stay down; electric eyes that could burn to the centre of your brain and make your heart melt in the same minute; biceps she could barely wrap both hands around; not too tall, but not exactly short either; a stocky body, muscles made hard by all those squats he did when he was edgy, or nervous, or pensive, or hungry, or … anytime, really. She once asked him why he did squats all the time. His reply had been a shrug and a claim that he had 'never really thought about it before'. It should have pissed her off, but instead she had just shrugged back and asked him to share a Wutaian takeaway. He had stolen her squid rings and she had skewered his dumpling with her chopsticks, making a rude remark that had him literally falling off his chair with laughter. The memory was strong and vivid, right down to the smell of grease and the rough texture of wooden chopsticks between her fingers. She hadn't eaten Wutaian food since he died.

Correction: since he was listed as dead. But that wasn't strictly true, was it? No, that was just what she and the rest of the world had been told. The rest of the world had been told he was dead because Sephiroth had killed him, along with the rest of a small mountain village infected with the vampire virus. The Silver General himself had been bitten and, rather than let himself turn into one of the monsters he had spent his life fighting, he had thrown himself into the heart of a mako reactor. The rest of the world thought he was a martyr and honoured him. They didn't know about Zack Fair, and if they did, it was in an offhand way; a footnote in the story of the great and noble Sephiroth.

Cissnei, on the other hand, had been told Zack was dead because Tseng was worried that if she knew the truth she would do something stupid, like try to break into a secret facility beneath Shinra mansion. He was right, of course. Not that she would ever admit it. And it was too late now. Zack was already free. If he hadn't broken out, she might never have learned he was still alive.

She had mourned him. She had actually grieved for him. She had never grieved for anyone before – not her unknown parents, not the orphanage kids who succumbed to illness and death, and not the work colleagues who sometimes bought the big one in the line of duty. Death was part of her job and had been part of life for as long as she could remember. She could smile and giggle less than an hour after killing a man; she could clean up blood after a vampire attack as easily as she washed her pristine white work blouses. It didn't mean anything until Zack was the one to die.

The first time they met, he had tried to rescue her from one of Shinra's failed science experiments. Since SOLDIER numbers had been dropping lately and their numbers were spread thin in missions across the continents, Hojo and his underlings had been hybridising animals, trying to create something that would follow orders like a dog, but be strong and tough enough to take on vampires without being torn apart like tissue paper. The creatures had broken out somehow and the Turks had been conscripted to help reign in the situation before it got out of control. Until her dying day, Cissnei would remember the sight of a man wielding a ridiculously huge sword, who jumped in front of her like she was some stupid girl in need of rescuing. One of the creatures had leapt off a wall, intending to latch onto his back. One throw of her giant shuriken had taken out it and its three siblings, leaving the man open-mouthed and looking rather stupid with nothing left to fight.

"Well that was an anti-climax," he had said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "You saved me when I was trying to save you. Does that make you the knight and me the damsel?"

The question was so silly when she was covered in blood and other, ickier fluids, she had snorted with laughter. "Only if you wear the dress."

"What?"

"Damsels always wear dresses. Preferably long, pink, tulle and with massive skirts too wide to fit through doorways."

He had blinked at her, then given her a first look at that grin she had come to value so much. "And the pointy hat with the piece of floaty lacy stuff hanging off the top?"

"Oh definitely."

"I don't know. It might mess up my hair."

She had folded her arms, her shuriken dangling loosely from her grip and a sardonic look on her face. "You have monster guts in your hair."

"I think you have monster snot in yours," he had replied without missing a beat.

She had stuck out her free hand. "I'm Cissnei."

"Zack." He had shaken her hand and then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Reno and Rude, who had been standing idly by, watching the whole thing. Reno had the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face and made a vulgar gesture at Cissnei when Zack wasn't looking. "They told me you didn't need any help."

"But you didn't believe them."

"I don't believe in letting a lady fight monsters on her own."

"That's either very chivalrous or very sexist of you." She had tipped her head to one side, surveying him. "Maybe a little of both?"

"Did I just get insulted?"

"Think of it as waiting for the jury to come back."

At that point, his phone had beeped. Flipping it out, his grin had faded. "Sorry, but I've got to go."

"Ah, the jet-set life of a SOLDIER."

"Uh, yeah," he had said distractedly. "It was nice to meet you."

"Maybe I'll let you save my life next time."

He had blinked at her, processing her words. Then that grin had reappeared. Something prickly had happened in Cissnei's stomach; not lust or nausea, but something she didn't have a name for. "That's either very generous or very sarcastic of you."

"A little of both."

The dark street had seemed darker still after he left. Of course, Reno had teased her about 'getting it on' with 'one of those SOLDIERs, yo', to which she had replied with a thump and a threat to cut off his ponytail while he slept. Rude had been impassive, as usual, but she got the impression he liked Zack. Practically everyone did. Zack was just one of those people it was difficult to hate.

But not everyone had liked Zack the way Cissnei grew to like him. Not everyone's breath caught in their throat when he arrived home safe from missions. Not everyone had done everything in their power to spend time with him while also trying to make it look accidental and not at all on purpose. Not everyone had sought him out and sat with him for hours in silence after his mentor died. Not everyone had risked their boss's wrath by wearing a bikini instead of the standard issue suit-and-tie while safeguarding him in Costa del Sol. Not everyone had cursed up a storm when they learned he had gone and got himself a girlfriend while they were still figuring out that 'like' had gone and morphed itself into 'love' while they weren't looking.

And not everyone would greet the fact that Zack was alive by heading for the sewers the moment their shift ended. If she'd had access to a leyline in a less disgusting place, she would have used it, but the closest other one was outside the city limits and she didn't have time to rent an off-road vehicle to go looking for it. She was up to her neck in lies and crap anyway. Why not go the extra mile and stand in the real thing?

Leyline energy cascaded through her mind, filling her with sensations designed to make her never want to leave. Somewhere in the morass of pleasure, she sensed the answer to her question. She reached for it, sifting carefully through the rest. It took a gentle touch to extract a single desire without getting swept away by a leyline. The process was slow and painstaking, but for those with the patience, it brought brilliant results. Cissnei grasped the thin, green-blue thread and tugged.

Her mind's eye opened on the image of a snowy landscape. She had an impression of intense cold, which matched the image, and flickering warmth, which didn't. She homed in on the feeling, only to find her path suddenly obstructed. Bared fangs and hot breath. Bristling fur and raised hackles. Forcefulness wound its way through her in an order she felt more than heard.

_**Leave, little witch**_**.** _**Stay away.**_

_What-?_

She snapped back into her own head with such force that her body stumbled right out of the leyline. She fell on her butt. Seconds later she registered what she was sitting and cried out in disgust.

What the hell had that been? Something had blocked her. That had never happened before. Clairvoyance wasn't her forte, but she had never failed to find a target. She had never looked for Zack because she had never had reason to – all records listed him as dead and his 'remains' had been cremated like all vampires'. If Tseng had let on what he knew earlier, she would have used the leyline energy to find Zack in the labs and …

And what? Gone to rescue him? Broken him out? More likely she would have done something stupid, got herself and her magic noticed by Hojo, and ended up in confinement right next to him. Veld's careful deck of cards would have come tumbling down as soon as Hojo realised there was more to the Turks than met the eye. Understanding why Tseng had done what he had done didn't make it any easier to handle.

What strange force had blocked her from finding Zack's current whereabouts? It hadn't felt malevolent, but it hadn't felt human either. It was far too primitive, yet it had been flavoured with complexities she might have been able to separate and understand if she hadn't been so rudely ejected. Was something protecting Zack? Or was something just acting against her? Either way, she had to find out. If she was being blocked using leyline magic, that was fine. There was more than one way to skin a cat – or find an ex-SOLDIER.

* * *

><p>"<em>Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's quite common in those who have been in warzones."<em>

"_This isn't just PTS."_

"_I'm afraid it is. The symptoms are all present –"_

"_It's **not** just PTS."_

"_It is my medical opinion that it is, and raising your voice at me won't change that. PTS is a very serious condition and not one that follows a strict set of rules. There are no seven stages of PTS. Each sufferer just has to take each day as it comes, and their loved ones along with them."_

"_But –"_

_The voices faded as the two speakers clumped away along the corridor. Zack huddled under the percale sheet, wishing he was anywhere but here. Back in Wutai, for instance, or in a version of Gongaga that no longer existed. He never would have thought he would long for either, but fate had once again dealt him a crappy hand and expected him to use it to win the game of life. _

"_Why did you do it, Angeal?" he muttered._

_The doctor's voice returned, tight with barely controlled annoyance. It was impressive, considering who he was talking to. Most people kowtowed out of habit, but not this guy. He stopped outside the door._

"_Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."_

"_Are you?" The voice that replied was cool almost to the point of dismissiveness. Zack supposed that was habit too._

_At last, the doctor seemed to realise his error. They exchanged a few more words and the door opened, allowing a rectangle of light to enter the room. Zack wanted to pull the sheet over his head, but the impulse died when sure footsteps entered. He was a SOLDIER. SOLDIERs didn't hide under the bedclothes when things got tough. He scrambled upright, then realised he was dressed in a hospital gown and just stopped himself from standing up and embarrassing then both._

"_Zack."_

_He lifted his chin. "Sir."_

"_I think we can dispense with the formalities."_

_His chin dipped. "Sephiroth."_

_Sephiroth's arms were folded. He eyed Zack speculatively. Then, surprisingly, he dropped his eyes, as if not wanting to meet Zack's. The elephant in the room trumpeted loudly. "I'm sorry."_

_Zack nearly laughed. "What are you sorry about?"_

"_About Angeal. And Genesis."_

_A snort shot down Zack's nose before he could stop it. Genesis – ha! This was all his fault. He was the reason everything had gone wrong. If he hadn't –_

_But no, Zack couldn't hate the man as much as he wanted to. Genesis had saved Angeal's life. For that reason alone, he deserved some gratitude, even if it did come coated in queasiness at the memory of what he had done prior to healing his friend. Genesis hadn't forced Angeal's hand. No, it had been Angeal's own choice to deliver Zack to the Shinra camp, wait until nightfall and then disappear back into the Wutaian forest. Zack had been shipped back to Midgar and hustled into the medical facilities like a leper they were afraid would start shedding body parts if they left him standing in one place too long._

"_It wasn't your fault," he said to Sephiroth. Then he frowned. "Why are you here?"_

"_I came to check on you."_

"_No, I mean why are you **here**, in Midgar? You're meant to be leading the forces in Wutai."_

"_I was."_

"_They didn't let you come back just to check up on me, si- Sephiroth."_

_Sephiroth paused before replying. "No, they didn't."_

"_Pardon me for saying so, sir, but … why the hell aren't you out there doing your duty?"_

"_There are many different types of duty, Zack. There is duty to one's job, duty to one's subordinates and duty to one's calling. There is also duty to one's friends and oneself. The trick is knowing which to concentrate on at which time."_

"_Again, pardon me for saying so, but right now I think the first three should be your priority. We're at war, sir. Or didn't you get the memo?"_

"_I'm shipping out again shortly. Preparations are being made in my absence. The offensive on the Wutaian capitol city will begin upon my arrival. Until then, I am at liberty to spend my time as I see fit." Sephiroth raised his gaze. "How are you doing?"_

"_How am I …?" Zack was speechless. Sephiroth had actually left the battlefront to come and see him. That was either a poignant example of true humanity or a sign of madness. "Sir – Sephiroth – you can't just … those men are … I'm not … I … they … you …" He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Are you nuts? They're all relying on you to lead them. You should be out there making plans, not here with me. There are guys out there who aren't SOLDIERs. They need you, not the Third Classes bozos I saw before I left."_

"_Bozos?"_

"_I wasn't trying to be arrogant. They are bozos. They need more training before anyone lets them within a hundred miles of a real battlefield."_

"_And you're a veteran of those now?"_

_Zack's mouth opened and shut. He looked away._

"_Zack," Sephiroth said, "I read your report. I know what happened out there."_

"_I hope I didn't make any spelling mistakes."_

"_Zack," he said again. "You left out a few key things."_

_Zack's blood ran cold. "Excuse me?"_

"_Your report said Genesis appeared and assisted you and Commander Hewley when you were cornered."_

"_That's right."_

"_Did you know Genesis deserted in order to be there at that moment? He is now officially listed as AWOL. So is Angeal."_

"_So?"_

"_I am used to reading between the lines of official reports. 'Incurred much collateral damage'? Your doctor is insistent both you and Angeal suffered Post-Traumatic Stress as a direct result of that incident. Angeal's manifested in absconding without warning, or even a solid plan of what to do next, since he took no supplies with him into a hostile, vampire-infested jungle. Yours manifested as a comatose state from which nobody could wake you after you heard what he had done."_

_Cold blood pounded in Zack's ears. He straightened his spine. "Exhaustion, that's all."_

_Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. Obviously that excuse cut about as much ice as a soap hacksaw. "Something happened out there, Zack. Something you're not telling anyone. Others may be willing to accept the course of events as detailed in your report, but I'm not. That isn't because I'm particularly wedded to bureaucracy; it's because Angeal and Genesis are my oldest friends and I want to know what the hell happened out there to make them both abandon Shinra in the same twenty-four hours. It is also," he added less forcefully, "because whatever really happened, it obviously had a profound effect on you too, and I also consider you a friend, Zack. Your health and wellbeing matter to me as much as Angeal's and Genesis's."_

_For the second time in as many minutes, Zack was speechless. His fingers cramped around the edge of the percale sheet. He met Sephiroth's gaze squarely, but only for a few seconds. What did it matter? He asked himself that question as he stared down at himself. He didn't understand what had happened any more than he understood Angeal's reaction to it. The explanation Angeal had offered raised more questions than it answered – how could one human being heal another using their own life force? – and the promises he had made were broken almost immediately. The pain of betrayal stung like a whip-crack across Zack's face. _

_He took a shuddering breath. "Is this an official inquiry?"_

"_No, Zack," Sephiroth said softly. "This is just me, not the Silver General. It's just me asking you what really happened to my friends and yours."_

"_Genesis is no friend of mine," Zack said bitterly, and slowly explained what had unfolded in that faraway, blood-soaked land. _

_At the end of his retelling, Sephiroth nodded. "Don't be too quick to judge them, Zack. There are things you don't know about Genesis and Angeal."_

"_You think?" Zack said bitterly, sounding like the child he always denied he was. _

_Sephiroth's expression emptied. "Let me rephrase: there are things you can't know about them. Genesis and Angeal aren't like other SOLDIERs. They were the first members of the programme. They can do things that those who followed can't do."_

_Zack frowned. "I thought you were the first SOLDIER."_

"_The first to officially bear the name, but before me, before the war against the vampires prompted Shinra to specifically train vampire-hunters and launch its 'SOLDIER' division, there was an experimental unit called 'Project G'. Genesis and Angeal were members of that project. Eventually it was merged with another experimental programme with similar goals, called 'Project S'. Together, these two teams united their research and eventually became SOLDIER."_

_Zack's frown deepened. "Are you … allowed to tell me this stuff?"_

"_This is all on official records," Sephiroth said. "My point is, Angeal and Genesis have a shared history that neither you nor I can fully understand. They were friends before they joined Shinra at all. I know that joining was Angeal's idea. Genesis wasn't exactly opposed – not at first. Angeal wanted to help Shinra find a way to fight the vampires. Genesis seemed to thrive on the fighting itself." Sephiroth's expression was flatter than a shadow on asphalt. "But that was years ago. Things changed, as they always do. Circumstances change. Opinions change. People change."_

"_Genesis didn't want to be a part of Shinra anymore," Zack concluded, thinking back on his own memories of the man. To him, it had always seemed like Genesis was champing at the bit, eager to be elsewhere but simultaneously reluctant to leave. "But Angeal did."_

"_Angeal was always the peacemaker." Sephiroth actually chuckled. "When Projects G and S merged, things were not always … amiable between us. We were used to being the big fish in our respective little ponds. I admit I was not as diplomatic as I could have been."_

_Zack's eyes widened. "You picked fights with Genesis?"_

"_Not always."_

"_Genesis picked fights with you?"_

"_Not always. Let's just say the training room was used many, many times, and not always just to practise our kata. We were competitive. It kept us sharp. We constantly strove to better each other, and thereby bettered ourselves as a result. Angeal was our balance. Without him to hold us back during our more …" Sephiroth paused, searching for the right word. "Tumultuous moments," he eventually settled on, "we would have done more damage than we did, and believe me, Zack, we did do damage to each other."_

_Zack could believe it._

"_Once," Sephiroth went on, flicking a glance behind him as if concerned about being overheard, "he wasn't quite in time. Genesis was – is – a master swordsman. He and Angeal arrived at Shinra with their swords and kept them throughout their careers. A master swordsman is one for whom a sword becomes an extension of their arm. Nobody who saw Genesis fight ever considered asking him to switch weapons to the folded metal experiments Shinra's weapons division."_

_**Like you and Masamune,** Zack thought but didn't say. _

"_We injured each other quite badly. I don't remember a lot of what happened, but I do know that Angeal … did something." Sephiroth's brow twitched, as if he wanted to frown but couldn't. "To me." Another twitch. "The white light you described, when Genesis put his hands on Angeal's chest? I've seen it, but from Angeal. I think I may have been further gone than doctors would have me believe. I heard Angeal's voice." He tapped the side of his head. "In here, calling me back, and then I woke up. Afterwards, Genesis was incredibly angry at Angeal and I was … different." He stopped. "Now we really are getting into classified information."_

_Zack swallowed the dry lump in his throat, but said nothing._

_Sephiroth paused before continuing. "Together, we three elite eventually reached a compromise of respect, so when SOLDIER became official and we became representatives of the programme, we were able to work together as equals. That respect was hard-won, but all the stronger for it. Yes, even between Genesis and myself, despite our differences." He stopped again. _

_Zack realised with a start that he wasn't the only one who had been hurt by their sudden departure. He was so used to thinking of Sephiroth as the superhuman, invincible Silver General, it was a jolt to remember he **was** human. It was even more disconcerting to think that he had all the same frailties as Zack himself. Sephiroth's friends had deserted their shared cause, but they had also run out on him without warning or explanation. If they had truly once been as close as Sephiroth described, it was no wonder he had made a special trip to see Zack and find out what had really happened. _

"_You brought Angeal to help me when I first arrived at Shinra," Zack said abruptly. "You knew he could do things regular doctors couldn't." _

_Sephiroth nodded. "But I must admit that even I was surprised when he took you as his student. None of us has ever trained a successor." _

_Zack tried not to let the shock show on his face. Successor?_

_Sephiroth dropped his volume. "But not as surprised as I was when I heard about what happened in Wutai. Genesis, I could see deserting, but Angeal?" He shook his head. "All I can think is that he went after Genesis. He wouldn't abandon Shinra lightly; not after he spent so long working to build up the SOLDIER programme and fight the vampire virus. He definitely wouldn't leave **you** so lightly, Zack. You mean a lot to him."_

_There was that dry lump in his throat again. Zack's chin went to his chest. He fisted the sheet angrily. "Not enough, though."_

"_He'll be back," Sephiroth assured him. "Angeal would do anything for those he cares about."_

_Zack recalled Genesis's last exchange in the clearing, adding it to what Sephiroth had just told him. Angeal had always been cagey about his past but defensive of Genesis without really explaining why. What part of their shared history had influenced him to act so out of character now? _

_He couldn't look Sephiroth in the face as he said, "That's what I'm afraid of."_

* * *

><p><em>To Be Continued …<em>

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	12. Tifa Makes a Deal

…..

* * *

><p><strong>12. Tifa Makes a Deal<strong>

* * *

><p>Yuffie reclined against a rock, kicking her feet up on another. She linked her hands behind her head and stared at the starry sky. After about twenty seconds she sat up, the soles of her feet pressed together so her knees pointed outward in different directions.<p>

"Nope," she said to the empty air. "Can't do it."

_**You barely tried.**_

"Like this is my first time trying? I told you, me and meditation don't mix."

_**Well suck it up and try harder. **_

"Whyyyyy?" she whined. "It's sooooo boooriiing! And I don't even need it. I'm talking to you just fine, aren't I?"

_**Yeah, out freaking loud! Very subtle, Princess. The first pea-brained villagers who hear and see you will be all ready with a nice white straitjacket in just your size. You need to learn how to speak with your thoughts.**_

_LIKE THIS?_

_**Yow! Like I said, you need to practise speaking, not yelling. You think too loud.**_

"Well sor-ry." Yuffie rested her fist on her chin, pouting. "It's not like I had to worry about anyone else hearing them for the first fifteen years of my life."

_**Cheer up, sweet-cheeks. For the first fifteen years you didn't have my scintillating company, either. There's a silver lining to every cloud.**_

"Yeah, but every silver lining's gotta have a cloud attached, and clouds suck. They rain and block out the sun and when they get pissed at each other they cause thunder."

_**Not quite how it happens, but whatever. Now lie back, close your eyes and get with the meditating. We need to practise you thought-speaking without deafening me or letting every telepath in range know I'm around.**_

Though she was half-reclined again, Yuffie sat bolt upright. "Telepaths? They actually exist?"

_**Mmm-hmm.**_

"You didn't say anything about freaking telepaths!"

_**Really? Must've slipped my mind. Sure, the world is full of them.**_

"Really?"

_**Actually, no, they're pretty rare. Even rarer are the ones who know they're telepaths.**_

"You're doing it again. Tell me straight what you're talking about. I hate when you get all itsy-bitsy with the need-to-know info."

_**Look, basically, the sitch is this: you've got your basic magic users, which everybody used to call 'witches' before they decided witches don't exist and magic is a bunch of hokey explainable by THE MIRACLES OF SCIENCE!**_

"Ow!" Yuffie clapped a hand to her ear. Nobody had spoken out loud, but it seemed the right thing to do. "You're right, that does hurt."

_**Toldja. Now where was I? Oh yeah, well, 'witches' isn't a very accurate term. It's this umbrella word that everybody with a bit of magic in them got stuck with in the dim and distant past, but within it you've got all sorts of specialisations and interesting stuff. Telepaths are one of them – humans who can listen in to others' thoughts, and the really powerful ones can go into other people's head and switch memories, erase things mix things up and generally play around. You've also got your telekinetics, your firestarters, your spellcasters who use the different sound vibrations of certain words to invoke magic –**_

"Sounds complicated."

_**Yeah, but fun as all get out from my perspective. Most telepaths go stark raving mad early on. They don't know they're magic, because THE MIRACLES OF SCIENCE –"**_

"Ouch!"

_**Sorry. They go nuts because science says magic is a bunch of hokey and nobody ever questions the almighty SCIENCE. That was the last time I'll do that, I swear. Telepaths get labelled schizophrenic or something and locked away in institutions where they shout at the walls and listen to the other patients' nutty thoughts. Firestarters have this habit of setting themselves on fire and taking care of the problem before they learn proper control. What, you thought those stories about spontaneous combustion were real? Same with telekinetics – they get themselves squashed moving their bedrooms around while they sleep, or bash themselves in the head with random flying objects and turn into unsolved murder cases. Spellcasters survive most often, since if nobody teaches them the word-combinations and vocal inflections to cast their magic, their power just goes to waste. Some of the rarer magics can get pretty ugly and weirder than fish with fingers.**_

Yuffie's head spun. She rubbed her temples. "You're making my brain ache."

_**Like that's difficult?**_

"Hey!"

_**Face it, kiddo, you're not exactly high on the smart-o-meter. Exactly how long did it take you to learn your multiplication tables?**_

"How do you even know about that? You weren't around when I was that age!"

_**How do you know I wasn't right there watching you?**_

"Okay, smarty-pants, so if you could break your seal so easily and had nothing better to do than laugh at me fail my math tests, why didn't you show up back then, huh?"

_**Because I didn't break the seal. I was stuck in that freaking statue the whole time, dead to the world. I know about your crappy tutor reports because you talk in your sleep. By the way, you had a crush on a guy called 'Mr. Chiffchaff'? Are you kidding?**_

Yuffie blushed. Then she got mad at herself for blushing. Mr. Chiffchaff had been around for exactly six months when she was eleven. At the time, he was the only tutor less than a hundred years old and with fewer wrinkles than a pre-botoxed elephant. He wasn't handsome or debonair, he didn't wear a cape and he didn't sword-fight or go to sea to steal treasure like the heroes in her favourite trashy romance novels. Yet when the alternatives were pimply sons of clan elders, offspring of families looking to improve their social standing, or aged ninjas who could no longer see a shuriken to throw it, but dreamed of someday becoming king, Mr. Chiffchaff stood head and slightly-stooping shoulders above the rest.

"A chiffchaff is a type of bird," she replied starchily. "And by the way? Fuck off."

Ghostly laughter swirled around her. She tasted unnamed spices on the back of her tongue.

_**Touchy-touchy-touchy – but back to business. Now, just because I'm teaching you something, and so could technically be called your tutor, don't you go getting a crush on me, okay?**_

"As if! Don't flatter yourself, bucko."

_**Bucko? **_More ghostly laughter. It stopped abruptly, leaving a silence that was even louder.

Yuffie's spine straightened. "Kit?"

No answer.

She scrambled to her feet, though she knew it would do no good. "Kit? Where are you?"

_**Right here. The energies of the Planet shifted for a second there.**_

"Huh? What does that mean?"

_**Nothing good. **_

"Be more specific! I totally get what my dad was talking about when he said prevaricating was annoying." She half expected a snarky comment that she knew what 'prevaricating' meant, but the voice in her head remained serious.

_**The energies of the Planet are supposed to remain constant. Everything in the world exists in balance, and if things flux it means the balance is going wrong, which is on the upper end of the 'Oh Shit' meter. Our main priority from here on in is to get things balanced again, or else we're all up a certain creek without a certain rowing instrument. Basically, sweet-cheeks, it means that the crisis I told you was coming? It's coming even faster, and I'd bet my sweet hiney that a couple of key players are moving around on the board already. We gotta be ready to tell them apart, sweetie-pie – not every spirit out there is your friend like me. It's better you keep me as your secret weapon, which means not showing our hand and talking out loud to me when they're standing in front of us. So get with the meditating and let's get you proficient in thought-speech.**_

Grudgingly acquiescent, Yuffie sat down, crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees. She tipped both palms upward and pressed her thumbs and middle fingers together. After a moment she unsqueezed one eye and managed to make "Ommmmm…" sound sarcastic.

_**Nobody likes a smart-ass.**_

_That must be why you have no friends apart from me,_ she thought softly.

Ghostly laughter rang silently through the canyon.

* * *

><p>"<em>Tifa!" Zangan struggled through the snow, his snowshoes making running impossible. This was freshly-fallen stuff, which crumbled the moment a mouse tried to take a step on it, much less a grown man like him. Wilderness living had shaved off any excess fat on him, but he was still a big man, and muscle weighed more.<em>

_She was somewhere ahead of him. He couldn't understand how he hadn't heard her leave. Grunting and puffing, he kept calling her name. _

_Eventually he reached the edge of the bluff. Just as he was about to look over, a blast of flame shot into the sky from the ravine below. Zangan wobbled and fell back, cursing himself. He was a master martial artist. Master martial artists did not fall on their butts in surprise. He scrambled to the edge, fumbling for purchase beneath the fine snow. He couldn't afford to miss it and go plummeting over the side like a damn fool. _

"_Tifa!"_

_She was in the bottom of the ravine, standing like she had been struck by lightning; spine arched, arms and head thrown back. Zangan watched as she spasmed for a moment, mouth working silently, and then collapsed. She fell like a marionette with all its strings cut and lay unmoving._

"_Tifa!" he yelled. _

_He knew this area, despite the fresh snow casting different angles and curves all over it. It didn't take him long to find passage down to her. He knelt, gathering her gingerly into his arms. She was breathing. He let out his own sigh of relief, and another as he checked her and found her completely unhurt. A frown creased his forehead when he had finished. She wasn't injured and there was nobody else around. What had happened to her in the time between him waking to find her gone from the cabin and now? He glanced around at the circle of baked earth. It was only in this spot, with Tifa at its centre. It looked like a blast radius after high explosives had detonated. The snow had not only melted, it had evaporated and the ground beneath looked scorched. _

"_Tifa," Zangan said more gently. He pulled off one fur mitten with his teeth and touched her face. Her skin was clammy, as if she had a fever. "Tifa, wake up."_

_Her eyelids fluttered. "Mas … ter …?"_

"_C'mon, now, wake up for me. What happened? Why did you run off?" _

"_Call … ing …" she mumbled. Talking seemed an immense effort. Her eyes closed again. "Had to … go … calling me … sorry …"_

"_Who was calling you?" Zangan's frown deepened. He hadn't heard anything._

"_Not who," she replied softly. She was fading back into unconsciousness, though this time it seemed from exhaustion rather than pain or shock. "What …"_

"_Stay awake!" Zangan snapped. He put enough authority into his voice that the student part of her listened and forced the rest of her to respond – or at least that was what he thought until she looked at him. _

_Tifa opened her eyes and fixed them on her tutor. Zangan tried not to gasp. Instead of soft brown, her irises were fiery orange. Her pupil thinned to a slit that glared balefully at him. _

"_Let her sleep," she ordered in a harsh, raspy voice he had never heard from her before. "She's exhausted. Make yourself useful and take her back to that moth-eaten cabin you call home. When she wakes she'll be hungry."_

"_She?" Zangan's scalp prickled with alarm. "Tifa?"_

_She blinked those fiery eyes. "No."_

"_Who are you?"_

"_That's for her to tell you. I didn't make any deal with you so I don't owe you an explanation. Just be warned that if you don't take care of her while she's weakened, I'll come after you, and you won't like that." The corner of Tifa's lip curled in a smile. Like the voice, it wasn't any kind of smile he had seen from Tifa before. She hadn't smiled much at all in the year since they fled Nibelheim and took refuge in these mountains, but before that her smiles had always been kind and warm. This one was more like a sneer. _

"_If you won't tell me who you are, at least tell me what you've done to her."_

"_Given her a chance at payback," the voice said. "Something you never did. She stayed in this place because you asked her to, but her heart has always burned for revenge. She has fire in her belly." The smile grew wider and more fearsome. "Literally, now." Tifa gave a long blink. When she reopened her eyes they were back to brown with a round, human pupil. She gazed up at Zangan uncertainly and a little fearfully. "I asked her to go back for a while," she said in her normal voice. "She wasn't happy, but she agreed."_

_Zangan stared down at the girl he had trained from a gangly pre-teen and barely recognised her. Her face was still the same, her hair and skin identical to yesterday, but suddenly he felt like he didn't know her at all._

"_Tifa," he said slowly, "what have you done?"_

_She looked away. "I'm sorry. I had to. She spoke to me in my dreams, and I just … I couldn't say no."_

"_What did you do?" he asked again._

"_You said the hurting would stop, Master. It hasn't; not for one single second of one single day. I thought I could do what you ordered, and stay out here where it's safe, doing nothing except wait for Shinra to stop looking for us so we could go back down the mountain someday, but I **can't**! I needed to do something. I needed to …" She trailed off._

"_What," Zangan said softly, "did you do?"_

"_I made a deal," she replied. "I'm going to avenge Nibelheim, and Cloud, and Zack, and everyone else Shinra has ever hurt."_

"_I told you –"_

"_I know what you told me! But Master, you don't understand; the pain NEVER stops. I always feel like my chest is about to explode, or I'm going to throw up, or I want to cry, or hit something, or hit **someone.** I can't go on living like this. I just … I just can't."_

* * *

><p><em>To Be Continued …<em>

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	13. Meeting the Flower Girl

_._

* * *

><p><strong>13. Meeting the Flower Girl<strong>

* * *

><p>Zack hunkered over the edge of the embankment and whistled. "That's a long way down."<p>

_**Don't fall.**_

"Really? Y'think?"

_**Cheeky. Good advice. **_

Smiling slightly, he picked his way along the ridge and down a pathway Alpha guided him along. There were no fresh paw-prints in the powdery snow, but Zack guessed he knew of its existence because wolves had walked this way before. What wolves knew, Alpha knew. Zack supposed it was like the collective mind of a hive or insect nest, but that was an oversimplification. Alpha knew what wolves knew because, in many ways, he _was_ those wolves and those wolves were him. As Zack understood it, Alpha was an embodiment of wolf-kind – a kind of essence with an independent consciousness and a collective one inside one mind. It was confusing, and he didn't think he truly understood it, but he knew enough to grasp at least part of the nature of the spirit currently sharing his body.

The thick boots he had found in the cabin were invaluable. Alpha had been all for transforming at every opportunity, especially when going outside, but Zack needed to stay human for the sake of his own sanity. He was getting used to shapeshifting, but he wanted to take things slower. If he and Cloud were going to stay in these mountains for a while, he and Alpha needed to set some ground-rules, and the first had been Zack retaining control of his own body.

_**Can't smell prey,**_ Alpha grumbled._** Wasted effort.**_

"I'll check the snares anyway," Zack replied.

_**Tooth and claw catch many rabbits. Skilful. Faster. Reliable.**_

Zack didn't reply. It was an argument they had gone through before and probably would again. Alpha maintained that hunting as a wolf was the better way to feed themselves. After a week of chewing dried strips from the only rabbit his snares had caught, Zack was starting to agree.

He knew it had been a week since they arrived because he had counted the rising and setting of the sun. After years of being trapped underground, each sunrise and sunset was a little miracle. The blizzard that had covered their escape from the Nibelheim lab had let up before sunrise the next day. Zack had made sure Cloud was safe and then stood outside the cabin to watch. The first sliver of orange light on the horizon had shocked him with a well of emotion so thick it felt like his mouth was full of treacle. A tear had slipped out without him even noticing – SOLDIERs didn't cry, but the wonder of being free was too much. By the time the sun had risen completely, his cheeks were wet and he had been forced to retreat inside before his tears froze on his face.

Seven sunrises later, the sight was still amazing. Greyed-out wolf vision didn't do it justice. Zack had to watch the colours with human eyes, even if it did risk retinal burn.

The snare was indeed empty. Zack cursed. Alpha said nothing. Methodically, Zack made his way back to the cabin. This had been the last snare – carefully hidden in case Shinra goons made it up this far looking for them. Zack hadn't seen any evidence of a search, but he knew there had to be one. Hojo would not give up any prize easily. Plus, there was the mystery of the cabin to consider – it hadn't been used in some time, but someone had built it, which meant at some point humans had lived here. Zack had too much to lose to take stupid risks.

_**Safe here,**_ Alpha said, reading his thoughts, or maybe just guessing the direction they had taken.

It wasn't difficult. His own survival and Cloud's were what dominated Zack's brain in between marvelling at the tiny luxuries freedom brought: fresh air against his skin, the smell of outdoors, sunshine, burning sunlight, Cloud, vampires, Shinra, Hojo, freedom, tiny luxuries, fresh air – the cycle went on with incremental changes, but always looped back to keeping them safe and hidden. Zack's immediate desire had been to go back to Midgar and confront Shinra, but Cloud's safety had superseded that. Zack would do nothing until his friend was at least conscious, if not returned to his own consciousness.

Zack paused to look up at the sky again: eggshell blue all over. He was reminded of Aerith, and how she had once told him the thought of an open sky scared her. She had been born in the slums and existed below the Plate practically her whole life, or so she said. After spending so long in the labs, Zack felt infinitely sorrier for her than before. A life without freedom, without sights and sensations like this, wasn't a life at all. No wonder she had cultivated her flowers so diligently.

Guilt and regret compressed in his chest. It hurt to think of Aerith. No doubt she thought he was dead now. Zack wasn't even sure how long he had been away, but he had overheard enough technicians' idle gossip to know that the Shinra press office had characterised Nibelheim as a Red Zone operation with no survivors – including himself and Sephiroth. He wished he could let her know he was alive, but that was impossible. He just had to hope she had moved on and found someone good enough for her. Aerith deserved someone to make her happy. Once upon a time, Zack had thought that might be him, despite the difficulties a relationship with a SOLDIER brought. Those things had never seemed to bother Aerith. After Angeal disappeared and the world turned very bleak, she had been a bright spot and a hope that he might have a future not filled with pain and remorse.

He snorted. The irony was as biting as the mountain chill.

_**Miss your mate?**_ Alpha asked.

Mate? It was an equivalent term, but the difference between that and 'girlfriend' emphasised who he was talking to. Zack suddenly felt very alone. "Yeah," he muttered. His voice came out croaky. He coughed into his fist and started walking again. "But she's better off without me."

_**Not true.**_

"Just drop it, okay? I don't want to talk about her."

Alpha went silent, but Zack felt like there was more the spirit wanted to say. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and covering his tracks. He tried to block out all the unwelcome thoughts that seemed eager to drown him. He had to stay positive. He was free, Cloud was free, and who knew? Maybe someday he _would_ be able to go back to Midgar. Maybe someday he could see Aerith again without worrying about Shinra following him and her getting caught in the crossfire when they tried to recapture him. Maybe someday he could have that future, if he waited long enough and Shinra forgot all about the 'werewolf' who had helped kill the Silver General when he illogically became a vampire and fell into a mako reactor core …

_Yeah right. Quit dreaming. You lost Aerith the moment you touched down in Nibelheim. If you keep thinking about her you'll really lose it._

Zack kept walking.

* * *

><p><em>The vampire was fast. Zack bounded along the fire escape and swung himself up onto the mezzanine with one hand. Even with his superior SOLDIER speed, he was only just in time to see its feet disappear over the edge. He vaulted the gap and launched himself into empty air. His boots thumped on the neighbouring walkway, pausing only briefly to adjust his footing so the weight of his sword didn't put him backwards over the edge. <em>

_Vampires in Midgar. If word got out, there would be mass panic. Shinra's city was supposed to be untouchable. Only a few knew the truth, and they were intent on keeping it secret. Vampires weren't common, but they did sometimes get in. That was when the elite were sent to deal with the problem – which meant Turks or SOLDIERs, depending on how big it was. _

_Zack was a First Class. They only sent for him when the problem was getting too hot to handle. The brief this time had said ten confirmed vamps in a limited area of the slums. There were a lot of hiding places down there, plus lots of available blood sources: Walking Blood Donors, as Reno called them. Zack had worked with him only a handful of times and the Turk had yet to crack an actually funny joke. Under the Plate one vampire could become ten in a matter of hours. Ten could become a hundred. If too many were infected in the tightly packed tenements, the sector would have to be razed and thousands of innocent people would die. _

_Zack had taken out six vamps so far. He knew from audio communications that Turks and other SOLDIERs had decimated at least twenty others. One Turk had collapsed a building to make sure the job was done properly. Cissnei had told Zack the details confidentially when they met at the edge of Sector Five. _

"_It was the only way to make sure." _

_Zack had been aghast. "But the other people in the building –"_

"_I don't like it any more than you do!" she had snapped. "But the situation called for it. Can you tell me you didn't have any collateral damage in Wutai?" At his expression she had become penitent. She knew about what had happened in Wutai. Everyone knew about Wutai. Two elite SOLDIERs didn't desert without people noticing. _

_Yet Cissnei knew more than most. She had been there to help Zack pick up the pieces afterwards. She had echoed Sephiroth, encouraging Zack to channel his emotions into something else apart from grief. Zack had chosen work, which had led to him becoming the youngest ever First Class in Shinra's history. Cissnei was Zack's friend; despite everyone telling him Turks didn't have friends, and that trying to befriend one was stupid. Zack had ignored them all. Cissnei was different. She wasn't exactly sociable, but she had sought him out during social hours. Of all the Turks, she was the most human. _

_Still, there were moments he could see what people meant, even about her. The Turks had a cold streak through their entire department. You couldn't do what they did without getting tough to protect yourself. It was the same with SOLDIER, but Zack hoped he would never reach the stage where he could blow up an urban landscape and consider unnecessary civilian deaths simply 'collateral damage'. _

_His boots rattled against broken concrete. The air vents along here were coming loose from their moorings. One lay on its side, the flue beneath exposed. It was easily wide enough to accommodate a burly man – or vampire. Zack heard metallic clanging from inside, like that of a body sliding down and hitting a sharp bend. He also spied a streak of red on the side, at the right height for someone to have thrown out their arm to steady themselves. He had cut off this vamp's hand. It was the last one, and then Midgar would be free and clear. He calculated the risk versus the chance of success and swung himself down the flue in pursuit. _

_Zack hadn't been on a playground since he was a very little kid. He didn't like the chute then, either. He whizzed down the flue, bracing himself like a bobsledder as he went. He shot out of the end like a bullet from a gun. The vampire was already trying to crawl away through the air duct, but while the passageway was strong enough to take the weight of one person, it wasn't up to handling two men and a Shinra-issue sword. It creaked ominously and gave way, spilling them both onto the walkway below. _

_Zack righted himself in a second. He managed to roll to his feet and draw his sword in the same movement. The vampire also jumped to its feet, baring razor-sharp fangs at him. It clutched its injured arm to itself. Blood splotched the floor where it had rolled; a lot of blood. It was wobbling, but still ready to fight him. Desperation brightened its red eyes. Zack knew that it would kill him if it could, but it also saw him as a food source now it was hurt. It would drink him first, and only if he was lucky would he die from that. _

_Zack set his feet and adjusted his grip. "Nowhere left to run, chuckles," he said._

_The vampire was beyond rational speech. It screeched and threw itself at him. What ensued was a frantic few seconds of claws, blade and blood. The vampire's other hand catapulted into the air. It kept coming. Zack put his sword in his right hand and pulled a stake from his belt with his left. When the vamp came at him again he aimed and threw with SOLDIER strength. The stake hit its chest with such force the ribcage caved in and the creature disintegrated mid-flight. He raised his arm to cover his eyes as a body's worth of dust hit him like gravel. _

"_I hate it when that happens," he muttered. "Yeeeuch." His eyes watered, blurring the world around him. He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, reaching to activate his comm-link and report in another kill._

_Ominous creaking filled the air. The walkway juddered beneath him._

"_Oh sh-" Zack started to say before it collapsed. _

_He reached out to grab or brace his feet against something. He kicked off the falling walkway so it wouldn't crush him, but that disorientated his sense of up and down. He crashed into a hard surface. It only slowed his fall. He fell through and bounced off what felt like a rocky outcropping of the kind he used to avoid in Gongaga gorge. Finally he crashed landed in a shower of debris. Wreckage rained down on him for the next few seconds. He curled into a ball to avoid it striking his head or vital organs, though he needed to loosen up and suck in a breath. All the oxygen had been driven from his lungs by the impact. He had kept hold of his sword, but it fell from nerveless fingers as a wave of pain and darkness washed over him. _

_He blinked back to consciousness some time later. A groaned escaped his open, dry mouth. His skull hurt. His spine ached. His ears pounded. His legs felt weird and his insides extra squishy, like they had been smacked with a meat tenderiser while still inside his skin. Heck, his skin hurt too! He tried to raise his arm to massage the bump on his head, but electric jolts ran up and down his nerve endings. _

"_Shh, lie still," said a voice. _

"_Whu-?"_

"_You're injured. You just fell through the roof. You're lucky to be alive."_

"_Mrrf–"_

"_Don't try to move." A cool hand pressed against his forehead. "You might be bleeding internally."_

_That would account for the squishiness. Zack wasn't worried – if he had knocked himself out but come back to consciousness, it was likely his SOLDIER healing processes were taking care of things. He was willing to follow the voice on the lying still part, however. He had no desire to move and cause more pain. He concentrated on breathing; the simple rhythm a cadence of his own body as it … turned suddenly tingly and cold. The sensation blossomed outward from his stomach. It wasn't normal._

_His eyes snapped open, but his vision was too blurry to see details. Vague shapes orbited him – or maybe they stayed still and his eyeballs rotated in his skull. He shut his eyes again. _

"_Shh, don't worry, it'll be okay," said the voice. _

"_What –"_

_The tingling faded. Zack sat up. He still ached, but it seemed worth the risk. Surprisingly, there was less white-hot agony than he anticipated. He looked around to see he was indoors, surrounded by high walls, stone statues and stained glass windows. _

_A church? He had fallen from the walkway into a **church**? _

"_Are you feeling better?" asked the voice. It belonged to a girl kneeling close by. She was just a teenager, probably only a little younger than him, but the differences between them were perceptible. She probably wasn't as tiny as she looked all scrunched over like that, but his sprawling achy body felt massive in comparison. Where he was grimy, sweaty and stained with blood and vampire dust, she had on a spotless blue dress. What looked like small white flowers had been woven into her ponytail and the brown ringlets around her face. _

_Zack gaped. He had seen pretty girls before, but none of them had worn flowers in their hair. Flowers were such a rarity in the city that most people didn't bother even trying to grow them, and imported ones were always limp and half-dead by the time they crossed city limits. _

"_Can you hear me okay?" The girl frowned. She raised her hands as if about to attempt sign language before remembering she didn't know any. "Can you hear my voice? Can you **see** me? Oh … fudge, I've heard about people going temporarily blind or deaf when they bang their heads. Hello? Helloooo?"_

_Could he see her? Could he ever._

_In Zack's experience, Midgar girls fell into two groups: those above the Plate and those below. Above-Plate girls were affluent and dared each other to date SOLDIERs out of some peculiar rebelliousness that came from being rich and living in the safest, most automated city in the world. They were generally spoiled, bored and looking for a way to fill their hours and make their friends or boyfriends jealous, plus the SOLDIER stipend came in handy for expensive dates. Below-Plate girls had been made harsh by circumstances and hated SOLDIERs for what they represented. They wouldn't stop one saving them from a vampire, but they wouldn't voluntarily talk to him, either. There was an adage that went around the barracks with each new intake of one SOLDIER who limped past a bunch of below-Platers holding in his own guts and not one offered him so much as a band-aid. _

_On first glance, this girl didn't look like either group. She looked too impoverished for above the Plate – her hemline had obviously been let out a few times and the strap of one sandal had been glued back on – but she didn't look at him with the disgust he expected in the slums. _

"_Hellooo?" she waved a hand in front of his face. _

"_I can, uh, hear you," Zack stammered. "And see you." On impulse, he rolled back onto his shoulders and flipped to his feet. "And I'm fine. See?"_

_She skittered to her feet and backed away in surprise._

"_Wait, no, sorry!" he stuttered. What the hell was wrong with him? He tried to think of something witty to say and failed. The best his mind could come up with sounded like 'flagarhmaggajagga'. "Um, I'm okay?"_

_She beamed. "Thank goodness. The way you came through the roof like that, you really scared me."_

_Zack looked up. The ceiling was patchy and full of holes anyway, but he could see a fresh one right above them where he had obviously made his entrance. "Sorry. Is the priest around? I'll apologise."_

"_You nearly died falling all that way and you want to apologise for it?" She stared at him. "Who **are** you?"_

"_I'm Zack."_

_She squinted. Her body language was still cautious. Abruptly she came to some sort of decision and held out her hand for him to shake. "There isn't any priest. This church isn't used anymore. It's abandoned."_

"_So what are you doing in here?"_

_She flicked her eyes at the floor. "Looking after the flowers."_

_Zack looked at his feet and realised with a start that he had missed the obvious: a patch of garden in the middle of the floorboards. Some were crushed where he and parts of the ceiling had fallen on them. He looked again, realising that the entire church was studded with greenery. Tendrils of ivy crawled over the pulpit. Honeysuckle covered several pews. Climbing roses stippled the walls where the plasterwork was coming away. The lectern had big green leaves and even bigger pink blooms covering every inch. The choir stalls were home to vines and other things beyond his limited ability to name. How had he missed it all before? Things didn't grow below the Plate. Most of the food was patterned soya mixed with the cheapest grains Midgar could import since they couldn't afford proper meat, fruit or vegetables. _

"_I'm Aerith," said the girl, reminding him why he hadn't noticed the greenery before. Zack was a SOLDIER, trained to notice his surroundings and note any discrepancies as a matter of survival, but she had somehow made him forget his training. Or maybe he had a concussion. Yeah, a concussion would be better. The last thing he needed was to go all googly-eyed over some girl while his was still on duty. _

"_Did you do all this?"_

"_No." She shook her head. "They grow all on their own. But I helped plant them." She smiled. It lit up her whole face._

_Zack was sucker-punched. He wasn't used to the feeling and didn't know how to deal with it. Damn it, he was eighteen, a war veteran, and sounded like a stupid twelve year old whose hormones were just waking up! Flummoxed, he stuttered, "I, uh, gotta go –"_

"_Oh." She looked disappointed. _

"_I was, uh, chasing someone up on the walkway when, uh …" He hesitated. If by some miracle she hadn't realised he was from Shinra, he didn't want to give her an excuse to look at him with the disgust of all slum-dwellers. "I have to go."_

"_But you're hurt –" _

"_I feel fine. Just great. See?" He turned a somersault to prove it. He didn't know why, but it seemed like a good idea. He even added a flourish on the end. Angeal would admonish him for showing off like that. What was wrong with him? "Right as rain." _

"_But you fell …" She looked up at the ceiling and then back at him. He expected her to call bullshit, but amazingly she didn't. Instead, she looked a little relieved. "If you really have to go, I guess you'd better go."_

_A kernel of disappointment crimped his brain. Impulsively, he stepped towards her. When she didn't back away again, he blurted, "I need to repay you for looking after me while I was KO-ed. How about," he flourish his index finger, "one date?"_

_She looked shocked. "A date?"_

"_Sure. You, me, wherever you want to go, me footing the bill at the end: a date. So how about it? Will you let me say thank you?"_

"_I, uh …" She was clearly flustered. "I guess so."_

"_Cool! Do you have some paper? I'll give you my cell phone number."_

_She was wearing a small bag strung across her front. From it, she extracted a notebook of the kind waitresses used to take orders. She had slid a pencil between the metal spirals at the top. When she handed it to him he saw the words 'orders to be fulfilled' and names with neat lines through them underneath. Next to each was the name of a flower. He jotted his cell number at the very bottom along with just his first name, which he underlined twice. Before handing the notebook back, he added the words 'guy who fell through ceiling'. _

"_In case you forget and wonder who I am."_

"_I don't think I'll forget you." She accepted the pencil and notebook. "Zack, the guy who fell through my ceiling and owes me a date."_

_Despite everything – his crappy day, his constant worry about Angeal, his loneliness, his apprehension for the future – Zack grinned and gave a mock salute as he dashed away through the giant double doors at the front of the church. _

"_And I always pay my debts."_

* * *

><p><strong><em>To Be Continued ...<em>**

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	14. A Friend In Need

.

* * *

><p><strong>14. A Friend In Need<strong>

* * *

><p>Zack sat up and was immediately aware of two things: he was alone and Alpha was growling. Neither was good. Both together added up to Something Very Wrong Here.<p>

"Alpha?"

_**Get up. **_

Zack didn't argue. He rose fluidly and checked the exit points on instinct. Whenever he did this, he expected some subtle difference as his first indication that their security had been breached. In reality it was much more obvious: the front door was open.

"Shit!" he cursed.

Alpha was implacable. _**Follow.**_

Outside the world was cold, white and perfect. Fresh snow had fallen in the evening. Juxtaposed with the night sky, the ground looked like one of those fruitcakes they served after dinner at Shinra's snobbish Yule dinners. Fruit was rare, so of course only the elite had access to enough to make desserts. The cakes were sickly-rich and arrived when you were so stuffed the top button of your pants threatened to go into orbit if you took one more bite. During his last year of freedom, Zack had foregone Shinra in favour of dinner at Aerith's. It had been a much quieter affair and, to be honest, he had preferred it. Aerith's mom had been as wary of him as ever, but even she had welcomed him inside and marvelled at the mince pies he had smuggled out of the mess hall.

The snow had stopped now, allowing even an unenhanced human to see the single set of tracks leading away from the cabin. They were heavy, but not heavy enough to be those of someone carrying a body. Cloud had got out of the cabin under his own power.

"Shit! _Shit!_"

Cloud had shown signs of actual lucidity lately, but mostly remained in the same semi-catatonic state as when they arrived. Without checking on him, Zack had though more than once that his friend looked like a dead hermit on the cot. He never moved. That constancy had been a weird kind of comfort: no matter what happened, at least he could count on Cloud to be there when he came home.

A lone figure stood at the edge of the canyon. Zack stopped, horrified. Cloud's arms were outstretched, like a little kid grabbing for a balloon it had accidentally let go. One false move and he would be over the edge. Zack had seen enough carnage to know that a vamp could survive a fall like that, provided outcroppings didn't rip its head off on the way down, but it hurt them like hell and took a dragon's age to heal. Cloud's hair fluffed up in the sharp breeze.

"Cloud?" Zack said hesitantly.

Cloud turned. His face was just as slack as ever, though his skin seemed paler, if that was even possible. How did a corpse get paler? His eyes, however, were lucid and so full of anguish and pain that Zack almost took a step back. In the biting cold, the tears on Cloud's cheeks were already turning to ice.

"It … hurts," he said slowly, like the words were hard to form. He sounded like some punk who had been tasered. Zack's stomach twisted. "Zz … Zzaa …" Cloud swayed his head from side to side. "It huh … hurts … so _much_ …"

"C'mon, Cloud." Zack advanced, but halted when Alpha barked into his mind.

_**Stop! **_ Invisible teeth nipped Zack's shins. _**Danger!**_

"What?" Zack glanced around. Were they about to be attacked by some unknown threat? After Cloud's unbelievable childhood stories, who knew what weird creatures lived in these mountains.

_**Pack brother,**_ Alpha replied.

"Cloud's in danger?" Zack eyed the cliff edge. How much was snow and how much actual ground? He had to get Cloud away from there, but Cloud was as uncoordinated as a drunkard outside the last bar in town.

Alpha snarled, _**Pack brother IS danger**_.

Zack was nonplussed. "What?" Cloud looked and sounded so pathetic, there was no way Zack could take him seriously as a credible threat. Vampire or not, he was still Cloud, and a weakened Cloud at that.

_**Look. Not see, LOOK! **_Alpha's growl echoed like distant thunder. _**Teeth!**_

"It huuuurts," Cloud said. He hugged his middle and crouched like he had bellyache. His body was in the kind of condition he had longed for before he was infected; every muscle was sculpted into the kind of perfection magazines needed computers to achieve. Each and every one of those muscles was now trembling. tendons stood out on his arms and neck. Cloud's fingers dug in, kneading his midriff. A whimper escaped him. "No," he moaned. "No, I won't … can't … no!" He shook his head. "Not that. Not even now. Never. Won't ever. No!"

A couple of times while visiting Aerith in the slums, Zack had come across addicts in the throes of withdrawal. A few had tried to mug him, desperation and fever blinding them to his insignia when he was in uniform and his physique when he wore civvies. The frantic hunger in their eyes was a perfect mirror for Cloud's now. Moonlight glinted off his elongated fangs.

"Shiiiit." Zack couldn't think what else to say. Even cursing wasn't enough. He was such an idiot!

They had been out here for weeks. Cloud had been barely functioning the whole time, which must have preserved energy. Zack had assumed the stupor was involuntary, but what if it hadn't been? What if Cloud had been deliberately shutting himself off – and his body down? Zack had to presume he must have been working off the nutrients infused into his body in the labs. Cloud had not fed even once since they escaped and now he had reached his limit. His picture-perfect body was consuming itself from the inside out.

Yet Zack had seen starving vamps before. They hadn't acted like this. There came a point in both man and vampire when hunger finally overcame everything else. Cloud was clearly at that point, but he was fighting his own survival instincts. Not only was his body self-destructing, what was left of his mind was too.

Alpha continued to growl. Cloud continued to whimper. Zack was momentarily paralysed as the full extent of the situation writhed its way into every crevice of his brain. How had he not considered this before? How had it not even occurred to him? What was he supposed to do now? The answer was nauseatingly obvious. His gorge rose at just the thought, but what else could he do. He couldn't leave Cloud like this. If only he had realised earlier. Pickings had been slim, but maybe if he had hunted more and not resorted to vegetation from under the snow –

Alpha's growl became a snarl. _**No!**_

Zack ignored him. He edged closer to Cloud. "C'mon, buddy. I'll take care of it. Just don't fall off that cliff there, okay? It's freezing out here and I don't want to spend all night picking your skinny ass off the rocks below."

Cloud's eyes wavered between focussed and unfocussed. It seemed to take great effort for him to concentrate on Zack. The fact that he tried said a lot for his mental strength. Likewise his self-restraint if he had been dying a second death from hunger and, instead of surrendering to the madness of a hungry vamp, he had fled the cabin and his sleeping, warm-blooded friend.

"Cloud, do you recognise me?" Zack asked.

Cloud blinked. And blinked again. "Zzaack," he enunciated slowly.

"Right." Zack forced a smile. He shoved away images of the way Cloud used to be. Those weren't helpful now. "I'm going to hold out my hand, okay? You take it and come back to the cabin with me."

Cloud shook his head. "Hurts … too much. Can't … c-can't … hurt …"

"I know it hurts, buddy, but –"

"No." Cloud shook his head and clamped both hands over his ears. "Hurt _you_. I'll … hurt … you."

If any doubts had lingered, they vanished at the stuttered statement. Cloud was stronger than Zack. Zack's throat tightened. More memories rose up but he pushed them down. Ifrit's balls, he couldn't get maudlin now. He gave a false little laugh. "Like you even could. When did you ever beat me in sparring, huh?"

"I don't … I can't … I-I don't want to hurt you, but … b-but I'm so … so …"

"Hungry?" Zack crouched to put himself on Cloud's eye-level. "I told you, I'll take care of it. I said I'd look out for you, didn't I? Friends look out for each other. We're still friends, right? That hasn't changed." When he didn't get a response, Zack added, "Right, Cloud?"

"I don't … want to … hurt you," Cloud said softly. The breeze caught his words and tossed them into the air, where they crystallised and thunked to earth between them, heavy and undeniable. Zack had promised to look after Cloud and right now Cloud was about to break unless Zack crossed a line he had sworn never to cross.

"Cloud," he said, just as softly. "Did you come out here to, um …" 'Kill yourself' didn't have the same meaning anymore. "Were you going to jump?"

Cloud nodded. "If I … had to." His voice trembled. "C-Can't control it. The hunger. So strong. Like knives in my head."

The twisting in Zack's stomach turned to a solid block of ice. There was practically no difference between his external and internal temperatures. He stuffed all his fear and revulsion in a box to deal with later. Right now, all that mattered was Cloud.

"If you jumped," Zack said, "and you were too far gone to heal, I don't know what I'd do. Tell me, what am supposed to do without you, Cloud?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you get it? I can't do this alone. You're the reason I keep going, Cloud. If you died –"

"But I AM dead!" Cloud yelled abruptly, jumping to his feet. He shoved Zack away like a little kid with a bully. "I'm already DEAD!"

What happened next was one of those moments where time telescopes, allowing seconds to last as long as hours and every detail tattoo itself onto your brain with impeccable clarity. You know only a few seconds are passing, but real time ceases to have any meaning.

Cloud's left foot skidded out from under him in the powdery snow. Zack automatically dived to grab his flailing arms. Alpha snapped to attention, surging forward in Zack's mind to help, no matter any negative feelings towards Cloud. Cloud's eyes bulged. Zack recognised the same fear he had seen in the Nibelheim reactor, when Sephiroth killed Cloud the first time and consigned him to this un-life.

Then the ground suddenly wasn't there under Zack's own feet. In truth he had just found a pitted part of the rock beneath the snow and tripped. All his SOLDIER training, all his battle experience, and he went and tripped over like a dumb rube just off the train! He ploughed face-first into the snow, slid and hit empty air. He had gone off the edge!

"Zack! No!"

Hands seized his shoulders. Someone with impossible strength yanked him back up – but too far! Cloud wasn't used to being vampire-strong. Zack flew over his head, scraping against the rocks to land several feet away. He slammed on his back, all the breath shooting from his lungs. It took a moment to flip back to his feet, but Cloud had already sprung away from the edge under his own power. With preternatural speed, Cloud pulled up in front of him. His blond hair swirled around his head like some monstrous halo.

"You can't die!" he said wildly. "I won't let you die! You have to stay alive! You …" His eyes faded for a moment. His pupils were slits, the iris around them jittery and red. He slammed back into reality, but the jitteriness remained. "You're all I have left!" His left eyelid twitched. One side of his mouth hung slack while the other was drawn into a terrified grimace. His entire being danced at the very edge of madness. Cloud clutched desperately at his skull. "No, no, I won't. Get out of my head … stop telling me what to do … just leave me alone. LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Alpha was still large in Zack's mind. Zack pushed past the wolf's presence and put his hands on Cloud's shoulders. He did it unhesitatingly, holding tight even when Cloud flinched and tried to pull away.

"It's okay," Zack panted. His back spasmed with pain where he had landed on the Buster Sword, but his entire focus remained on Cloud. Every choice he had ever made or would ever make balanced on this moment. Spectres of his parents, Gongaga, Sephiroth, Angeal, all the vampires he had ever killed, the ones that had gotten away, the people had had saved and the people he hadn't – every single one was in his memory and staring out like prisoners through ephemeral bars. Their disapproval and horror warred with his desire to save the only person who had suffered the same tortures as him and emerged on the other side too. Zack's beliefs had been compromised so much already; what was one more crack in the armour? "Cloud! It's _okay_."

"No, it's not –"

Before he could change his mind, Zack grasped Cloud's chin in his palm. Zack had been dealing with vampires too long not to know how to get one to open its mouth. One squeeze on the hinge of his jaw made Cloud's pop open. Generally this was a trick for stopping vamps biting you if they got in this close and you had no weapon. You immobilised them just long enough to get a stake off your belt and into their chest. Zack's purpose was quite different. Tipping Cloud's head back, Zack swiped the blood from his hand across his friend's tongue. It was a terrible thing to do, both for him and for Cloud.

_I heal when I shapeshift,_ Zack thought desperately. He had considered the possibility several times since learning Alpha's true nature, but never had the cause or idiocy to put it to the test. Field tests were always the worst. _My body always goes back to default mode when I change forms, and my default isn't infected. I'll shapeshift the virus out of my system._

If the situation had been different and less desperate, he would have seen how foolish the idea was. He had no guarantee it would work. True, he had shapeshifted himself out of a fever only yesterday, and had healed three broken toes the day before, but this was different. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on not betraying his friend again. Cloud needed to survive. Zack needed Cloud to survive.

He thought he actually saw the millisecond Cloud's self-control broke. The next thing Zack knew, Cloud was holding his hand and had sunk his teeth deep into the palm. It was not a preferred angle – vamps usually went for places where blood flowed most and closest to the surface of the skin. Those wishing to torment their prey first took sips from less filling places, but a half-starved vamp needed a lot of food fast.

Food. Zack's stomach rolled, and not just because of the strange sucking sensation making his arm prickle. He had never donated blood like regular people. The mako in his system made him an unsuitable donor to anyone but other SOLDIERs, but blood had been drawn from him numerous times for testing. It had never been more than a syringe, however, and this was so much more. Though he fought it, Zack's mind skittered back to his last night in Gongaga and the rogue Turk vampire who had nearly killed him. Cloud wouldn't do that. Cloud was his friend and had already shown he was mentally stronger than most vamps.

All the same, fear shot through Zack as he felt his strength leaving him. His knees turned watery. The prickling spread up to his shoulder and into his chest. He tried to pull away, but Cloud's grip tightened and the sensation of being _drained _increased.

"Cloud, stop!" Zack curled his fingers, jabbing the tips against Cloud's closed eyes.

They flew open, revealing the red glow beneath. Cloud wasn't in control anymore. What looked back at Zack was pure vampire.

_**Puppy! **_ Alpha roared. New strength rushed down Zack's arm, driving away the encroaching numbness. It was like a runaway truck careening through his veins. Alpha's presence was like a physical force. Cloud's head ricocheted backward. As his fangs were still in Zack's hand, he took a chuck of palm with him.

Zack fell to his knees, cradling his injured hand. He could see bone through the ripped flesh. Panting, he stared up at Cloud. "B-Buddy …" Shock and blood loss made his head light and his vision swim.

He had to shift forms to heal his hand, but also to get the virus out of his system before it took hold. He staggered to his feet, hair already sprouting along the ridge of his spine. His nails extended, becoming black and hard His thundering heart swapped sides and then swapped back again as internal organs rerouted around it. Zack's ears were crawling into his hairline when Cloud – the real Cloud – reappeared.

Cloud spat the chunk of palm into the snow and stared in dismay his own bloody hands. Things moved behind his eyes, thoughts bumping against each other and connecting with memories that fought to subdue the vampire's bloodlust. He blinked rapidly, gave a sharp cry and lurched backward. He fell on his backside and scrabbled even further away, covering his head with both arms.

"No, no, no, no, no …" He rocked back and forth. "You can't be like this, not like me. I didn't want to do this to you. You're better than this! Better than me ... Zack, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." His hands went around his head again, as if he was trying to twist it right off his neck. "I won't do as you say! Get out of my head! Stop telling me what … to … do!"

Zack wanted to reassure him, but his vocal chords would no longer allow it. Instead he let out a guttural noise and tipped forward onto four paws. He shook himself, flanks rippling with hard muscle overlaid by coarse fur. He had run out of the cabin in practically nothing but the sword and harness, relying on the hardiness of a SOLDIER who had been liberally drowned in mako to preserve him. Fur sure made the cold easier to handle, though. He eyed Cloud, wondering whether to approach like this or shift back to human. The idea of changing again so soon was exhausting. Synthesising new blood for the wolf body had sapped more of his strength. He had obviously been right in thinking this would not be the same as the other times he has shifted to heal himself. Those had been chores. This had been an ordeal.

_**Stay back**_, Alpha ordered. This time Zack didn't ignore the command.

Cloud eventually stilled, though he stayed in the same position. Zack and Alpha both watched for a long time, until Alpha was satisfied. Nuzzling Cloud's arm made it flop down to his side, his hand trailing in the snow like a ragdoll – or a fresh corpse. Cloud's eyes were back to staring at nothing. He had gone inside himself again. Zack wondered whether this time he would ever return.

Despair sliced through Zack. He threw back his head and released a howl so heart-rending, the entire wilderness sat up and listened. He howled out all his agony and frustration, giving voice to everything he had felt since the day he landed in Nibelheim – and even long before that, back to the beginning on a blood-soaked night in Gongaga.

Cloud didn't react. Convinced he was a monster who had consigned his only friend to the same fate, Cloud had retreated too far into his own mind to now be reached by mere sound. Cloud was sick, but not just with the virus. Their times in the labs had broken him inside. Zack howled for everything he had lost and everything Cloud had lost as well. It was a lonely, haunting sound, which echoed long after he had lowered his muzzle.

_**Home?**_ Alpha's power was reassuring, if not actually helpful.

The cabin wasn't a home. It was just a scabby place where they slept and waited for the next step of their journey. Zack had thought it was Cloud's recovery. Now he wasn't so sure. He gave Alpha a weary yes and didn't put up a fight when the spirit took control. Alpha got behind Cloud and pushed him up. Cloud made it to his feet, but moved with the same robotic mindlessness as before. This wasn't Cloud; it was just a Cloud puppet Sephiroth had made and Hojo had finished.

After a little while, fresh snow started to fall. It quickly filled in their footprints and covered the splashes of red blood like nothing had ever happened there.

* * *

><p><em>Zack hated these formal events. At least they hadn't made him wear a monkey suit this time. Putting him in dress uniform and standing him at the front was bad enough. He couldn't be any more on display if they mounted his head on a plaque and stuck it above President Shinra's seat. <em>

_President Shinra was a short stout man with thinning blond hair. As always, he was dressed in his ugly burgundy suit. It was tailored, but looked like he had bought it off the rack in a size too small. For the richest guy in the known universe, he was being outshone by everyone on his table. _

_Scarlett in particular shone like a beacon in the red light district. A dress in her customary namesake was slashed to her hip on one side and her impressive cleavage strained against the thin straps, though she tried to appear coquettish as she wafted the end of a silk scarf in front of her face. Her famous braying laugh echoed across the table as she tried to kiss as many asses as possibly before the main course. Beside her, half a dozen executives salivated and waited for those thin straps to give. _

_Lazard Deusericus, the head of SOLDIER, sat away from the Main table but close enough not to be part of the rabble who had actually bought their tickets. Rufus Shinra was away on some retreat that had required half a dozen bodyguards and several Turks to 'take care of the paperwork'. Euphemisms hung thick in the air around this place. Zack was learning that more and more, as well as the smell of secrets. There were two types of secret in Shinra: the ones everyone knew but pretended not to and the ones that got you killed. Zack wasn't sure where the matching eyes of Lazard, Rufus and the President fell between the two options. _

_It was foolish to underestimate President Shinra. The amount of power he wielded beggared belief. This was the man who literally owned most of the developed world, and had started a war to surreptitiously get hold of the rest. His shrewd eyes stared out over the other diners, taking everything in. his gaze ran over Zack more dismissively. He didn't think SOLDIERs were a threat; at least not in the same way his own underlings were. In the world of big business, verbal assassination was scarier than a man wearing a sword bigger than himself on his back. _

_Zack shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was anxious to be gone from here. There was no reason for SOLDIERs to be on regular guard duty. The President was just flexing his muscles. Lazard had protested yanking a couple off their regular details, so of course the President had demanded double. It irked him that Sephiroth was away on a mission, but he had requested Zack by name instead. That was disconcerting all by itself. President Shinra's attention was a double edged sword. _

_Dessert rolled around. Zack figured he could literally roll half the fat cats from their seats by now. He stood straight-backed and proud, as Angeal had taught him when it was he who had to stand up front and Zack who had guarded the doors. _

"_Honour is worth protecting, even if the only protection you can give it is from your own big mouth," Angeal had said sagely. _

_Zack's spirit sank a little at the memory. There had been no sign of his mentor. To all intents and purposes, Angeal and Genesis had both simply disappeared. Even the information Cissnei fed him said they were either dead or in hiding somewhere remote. They were too well known to hide in urban areas and even her specialised magic was drawing a blank. Zack didn't pretend he understood all the weird goings-on with the Turks, but he knew that Cissnei's abilities were impressive. If she said she couldn't locate them, nobody could. It had left Zack adrift. Eventually he had made new connections, put down roots that had nothing to do with Angeal, and moved on with his life. He had regrets, but the mission to rid the world of vampires and their virus was a good distraction. _

"_You look lost in thought." Lazard ambled over. "Don't tell me your legs have fallen asleep with all that standing around you've been doing." He smiled easily and sipped his wine. Lazard was the kind of guy who looked natural with a glass in his hand. You'd never have guessed he started life as a slum kid._

_Several people had broken away from the tables, presumably for bathroom breaks and touching up make-up. A show was scheduled for after dinner; a troupe of young hopefuls from one of Midgar's premiere dance academies. It made Zack marvel at the fickleness of fate, that girls here could twirl about in tutus and make themselves throw up to stay thin, while identical girls from the below the Plate would never have the same opportunities and threw up only from eating rotten food. _

_Lazard understood, but seemed to view the whole situation with wry humour. Or maybe that was just the expression he used on everything. He sipped again and eyed Zack curiously. "Bored?"_

"_It'd be disrespectful for me to reply honestly."_

_Lazard laughed. "I think you've earned enough kudos to give an honest opinion on these little shindigs. You should act more like Sephiroth: even when he's in town, he refuses to attend. It makes President Shinra mad as hell, but what can he do? There only one Sephiroth."_

_The corner of Zack's mouth quirked. "In that case, I'd rather go for a walk in the desert in my birthday suit than ever have to be at one of these things again."_

"_You're an honoured guest, First Class Zack Fair," Lazard said mockingly. _

"_I'm a trophy."_

"_That too." His eyes twinkled behind the tinted lenses of his glasses. "Would you be more amenable if your little girlfriend was here on your arm?"_

_Zack almost snorted. This wasn't Aerith's scene, even if she ever did agree to come. The stringent lighting, opulent decoration and boasted wealth would swamp her. Zack remembered their first date, when he had tried to take her out for a meal and they had ended up sharing a bag of doughnuts as they walked along the street instead. Aerith wasn't built for the high life, and that was one of the things he loved about her. She was no Scarlett. She wasn't even a Cissnei. Scarlet sat brashly at the top of a heap made from her competitors, while Cissnei could make herself seem so at home anywhere she went, you immediately forgot she was there. Aerith would stand out as a novelty for half a minute and then be crushed like one of her flowers trying to grow in concrete. The only time Zack had tried to convince her to come along to one of these functions, she had refused so vehemently he hadn't asked again. _

"_So," Lazard said conversationally, "I take it you're ready to abscond?"_

_Zack watched him warily._

"_Leave," Lazard translated. "Depart. Vamoose. Sally forth."_

"_I know what it means. I'm just waiting for the catch." Zack hesitated. "Did you really just say 'sally forth'?"_

_Lazard leaned in close. "President Shinra's wife wants to dance with you." _

_The colour drained from Zack's face. President Shinra's wife was a corpulent woman who wore even smaller clothes than her husband and applied her make-up with a trowel. By all accounts she was the love of his life, but to President Shinra that translated to possessiveness and jealousy with a side order of vengeance against anyone who slighted or complimented her. This was especially damaging to those around them, because she had a wandering eye and very grabby hands. It was difficult to stay stone-faced in a slow dance when two-inch talons were digging into your backside and her mouth kept trying to latch onto your ear. If Zack was already on the President's radar, this kind of thing would do him no favours. _

_Lazard grinned at his expression. "It's just such a shame that a situation has developed outside Midgar that requires immediate SOLDIER attention. Reconnaissance only, but you can never be too sure, can you?"_

_Zack stared at him. "Thank you," he murmured after a moment._

"_I don't make the rules," Lazard said blithely. "But I do dispatch my men when it's necessary, and right now?" He cast his eyes back at the President's table. "It's very necessary." A hint of bitterness coloured his tone. He smoothed it over as easily as he smoothed his hair. Lazard was an affable guy, but he played his cards so close to his chest his lungs were experts at poker. "There's a chopper waiting. Someone will meet you at the helipad with your mission brief. You can look things over as you travel."_

"_Where am I going?"_

"_A little place called Modeoheim. A research facility there is reporting strange goings-on just outside town. They think the vamps in the area may be getting organised and it has them worried. There are several delicate experiments in the facility – anti-viral experiments. You can see why they've requested someone to stand at the door and yell 'boo' at potential intruders."_

_Zack made his escape. The main exit meant crossing in front of the President's table, so he opted for a service entrance used by wait-staff. At the end was the door to the kitchens, but past that Zack knew there lay a narrow corridor that led to an outside wall. He knew because, for the safety of the guests under his care, he had checked all floor plans before his first stint at guard duty in this building. Ironically, it was called the 'Freedom Ballroom'. _

_He expected to have a clear run. What he found instead was a tryst; two bodies pressed up against the wall, one clambering over the other in a complicated silhouette. Zack stopped abruptly and cursed. He couldn't go back, but the way was well and truly blocked. He was caught for a moment in indecision, during which a familiar voice floated down the corridor._

"_Oh, but you are such a naughty boy. Kya-ha-ha-ha!"_

_Zack almost groaned. Scarlett's distinctive laughter was like running your ears through a blender and then dousing them with battery acid. What she lacked in tunefulness, she made up for in volume. This proved that the rumours of her promiscuity were true. Zack had always known that – it was one of the worst kept secrets in Shinra – but seeing it first-hand was no high on his list of Things To See Before I Die. _

_Except that this time, apparently, her partner was less than enthused at her attentions. _

"_Please, ma'am," he said. "You said you wanted to show me something. I thought you meant a mouse or –"_

"_Silly, silly boy," Scarlett crooned. "Don't tell me you believed my little white lie."_

"_Ma'am, **please**, I don't … ma'am! MA'AM!"_

_Scarlett laughed again, but the sound cut off suddenly. Zack's sensitive hearing picked up heaving breathing, of the kind that came from sealing someone else's mouth with your own. Scarlett's partner was also breathing heavily, but the hammering of his heart was from panic, not desire. _

"_You kiss like you've never touched a girl before," Scarlett hummed. "A handsome boy like you? Surely not. I'll bet they were all fawning over you back in … well, wherever you're from."_

"_Ma'am, please, this is totally inappropriate and I have to get back to my post –"_

"_Oh, I'll show you inappropriate," Scarlett purred. She had drunk too much and was slurring her words a little. Her reputation for being a man-eater didn't usually extend to unwilling victims, at least as far as Zack knew. This could only end badly for everyone if he didn't step in._

_He backed up a little, cleared his throat and pelted towards them, taking baby steps so he didn't reach them too fast. "Miss Scarlett?"_

_Scarlett cursed and hastily disengaged herself. "Who's there?"_

"_Miss Scarlett, thank goodness, I'm glad I found you. Mr. Deusericus has dispatched me to deal with a viral breach in Midgar."_

"_What?" She blinked at him, nowhere near able to see as well as he did in the dim light. "You're one of Lazard's little SOLDIER boys, aren't you?"_

"_Yes, miss," Zack answered smartly, sticking to the shadows so she couldn't easily identify him afterwards. He knew she preferred being called 'miss' rather than 'ma'am' since it made her feel younger and thus more disposed towards the speaker._

"_Well why are you looking for me?" she asked, her voice a trifle less frosty._

"_I need you to prep your team to outfit me for the mission, miss. Mr. Deusericus said I should go to the best, and that's you." Scarlett was head of weapons and development. Mostly the team got along fine without her, and she was a more formidable force in the boardroom than the laboratory, but stroking her ego was the best way to make her let her guard down. _

_Sure enough, she softened. "Yes. Well. I agree. Good choice, SOLDIER." She fumbled in her purse for a cell phone, flipping it open and jabbing a few buttons. "I'll have my team ready for you when you arrive at the outfitting station. I'm sure they have some new toys you can use."_

"_Thank you, miss. I was also asked to tell you that Mr. Deusericus would like to speak to you personally."_

"_That slum-born idiot? Right now?" Scarlett clicked her teeth with her tongue and cast a doleful look over her shoulder. "I suppose I'd better, or I'll never hear the end of it. If he doesn't get me, that windbag of a father will have my head…" She strutted away, still talking, apparently oblivious or too inebriated to realise she had freely revealed another of the worst kept secrets in Shinra. _

_Zack waited until she was gone before approaching her victim. "You okay there?"_

_The figure moved. He had been frozen while they talked. "You're … SOLDIER," he breathed reverently. _

"_Yeah, I am, but that's not important. Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"_

_The figure scrambled into the light, revealing the uniform of a Shinra grunt. Zack cursed again, glad he had broken them apart. The kid really was a kid. Soft blond hair and piercing blue eyes did nothing to offset the barest hint of fluff on his chin. Either he had lied about his age to get a job here, or he was one of those guys cursed with a baby face. What that said about Scarlett's tastes, Zack didn't like to think. _

"_You're a squaddie," he said instead. "Let me guess; guard duty?"_

"_Yeah." The boy rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously. "I was told not to leave my post, but Miss La Roux –"_

"_Say no more, kid. I doubt she'll be telling your superior she dragged you off to have her wicked way with you."_

_The kid flushed red from the tips of his ears to the tips of his fingers. Zack was slightly taken aback. There was blushing and then there was BLUSHING. _

"_I'm going to be peeling potatoes and scrubbing boots for a month," the kid said softly. "I shouldn't have left my post. I'm such an **idiot**."_

_Taking pity on him, Zack made a snap decision. "Hey, kid, do you want to come with me?"_

_The kid's head snapped up. "Me?"_

"_Sure." Zack shrugged. This wasn't a real mission. It was more likely Lazard had trumped up some vague sighting and used it as a bonus to help out his top-ranking SOLDIER while Sephiroth was absent. Zack could take the kid along, claim he had needed someone to carry the 'new toys' Scarlett's team was readying, and both of them could spend the rest of the evening away from this oppressive dump. He would get a slap on the wrist for it, but that was better than seeing the kid punished just because Scarlett turned into even more of a lech when she was drunk. "Of course, if you'd rather try sneaking back inside, you could –"_

"_No, no!" the kid said hastily. "I'd, um … wow. **Wow**. You're SOLDIER. Why would you want me along?"_

"_Do you want to join SOLDIER someday?" _

_That was why most recruits joined up. They did their tenure as squaddies with an eye to taking the SOLDIER exam and becoming what he was: a front-liner in the battle against the vamps. Zack was the exception in how he had joined. He looked at this kid and saw the path he might have taken had things turned out differently. Enthusiasm shone in the boy's eyes. He practically trembled at the thought of working with a real life SOLDIER – and he didn't even know Zack was First Class yet. _

"_Sure!" the kid squeaked. "But I never … I mean, I didn't think I'd ever –"_

"_Well shake a leg then," Zack interrupted, heading past him for the exit. "Speed is key when the call comes in. By the way, what's your name?"_

"_It's Cloud," said the boy, hurrying to keep up and smiling like a loon. "Cloud Strife._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be Continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	15. Warning Off the Witch

.

* * *

><p><strong>15. Warning Off the Witch<strong>

* * *

><p>"Yo, Cissnei! What's up?"<p>

Cissnei didn't look away from her screen. "Reno. Rude." Rude hadn't spoken, but that didn't matter. They never went anywhere separately.

The smell of pepper and warm breath on her ear told her Reno had leaned in for a closer look. He always ate the weirdest crap for lunch. The last time she had eaten with them outside the canteen, he had delighted in finding a very particular food stand and searing off her taste-buds with something he later claimed was 'just chicken with a few spices'. Cissnei's right arm flipped up, blocking his view and nearly backhanding the middle of his face. Reno stood up grumpily.

"Keeping secrets, yo?"

"Secrets get you killed."

"Exactly."

"What do you want?"

"What any red-blooded male wants, sweetheart."

She snorted. "Keep dreaming."

"Oh well, then since you turned me down again for a date, even though you and me could paint the town red, I'll settle for knowing what secret project you're working on."

"What makes you think I'm working on a secret project?"

"Get real, toots. You've been sneaking around for weeks."

"We're Turks, Reno. You might like explosions, but sneaking around is what we do."

"Yeah, but I know for a fact your sneaking ain't to do with any mission, yo. Nothing _official_."

Cissnei's hands froze. She had to tread lightly. "Are you accusing me of something?"

Reno's smile hung in the air as much as his pepper-breath. "You got something to be accused of?"

"We all do." She finally swivelled to look him in the eye. He was standing while she sat in front of a computer terminal, but her brutal glare made it clear who was dominant in this situation.

Magically speaking, Reno was all brawn and little finesse. The rest of his attitude to life was only slightly better. He was not a guy who thought much about consequences, which was why Veld had partnered him with Rude in the first place. Rude said little but took in everything around him. Out of all the Turks (minus Tseng, because … well, he was _Tseng) _Rude was best at reading people. He reigned in Reno when situations had the potential to turn explosive – sometimes literally.

Reno grinned down at her. "Look, Ciss, don't get your panties in a bunch. We gotta stick together, y'know?"

Cissnei continued to stare at him.

He pouted. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"About as far as I can sneeze you out of my ear."

Reno raised his finger, mouth open, but stopped. "Wait, what?"

Cissnei sighed. "Go away, Reno. I'm busy." She turned her back.

"This is about First Class Fair, isn't it?"

Rude's words stopped her in her tracks. The hesitation cost her deniability.

"Seriously?" Reno looked between her and his partner. "You're _still_ hung up on that guy? Give it up, Ciss. If he wasn't dead before, he sure is now."

Cissnei resisted the urge to wrap her hands around Reno's neck. "It isn't about First Class Fair," she said calmly.

"You tried to access his data files recently," said Rude.

Her spine prickled. She had, but some were locked and the rest were nothing she didn't already know: sterling record, child prodigy, orphaned in a vamp attack, apprenticed to Angeal Hewley until he went AWOL, yadda-yadda-yadda. The juicy stuff – the _useful_ stuff – was under so many layers of encryption she had no chance of breaking in. She still only knew what Zack had told her about his last encounter with Hewley. Zack had been tight-lipped about anything to do with mentor, even when his entire body broadcast to the world that he was hurting.

Cissnei was no hacker, but she did understand that there existed such things as digital fingerprints. Rude was talented with computers. He could probably read them in his sleep.

"So?" She tried not to sound defensive.

"Why?" Rude asked.

"Because I want to know why files we _weren't_ given about the Nibelheim break-out are connected to Project S. We're supposed to be heading the undercover task force, but we're not being given all the facts that will help us do our job properly." Did that sound convincing enough? She hoped so.

"Ah, shit. Project S?" Reno pulled a face. "That shit's bad news, yo. Always has been, always will be."

"What do you know about Project S?" Cissnei asked him.

He opened his arms wide, palms splayed. "Nothing. Nobody knows anything except that it exists." He squinted in thought. "Except for Tseng. Tseng probably knows. But Tseng knows everything, yo. Freaky dude."

Tseng was, indeed, scarily good at his job. On paper, he was a perfect replacement for Veld; but Tseng had none of Veld's experience. Cissnei was always more wary around him than she had been with Veld. She found it difficult to connect with the cold, emotionless man and talked to the bindi on his forehead rather than look him in the eye. She could have asked Tseng about Project S, but he would have _looked_ at her and eventually she would have slunk away without any answers.

Project S was part fact, part urban legend. All the Turks knew that it existed. Some knew it was connected to the Jenova Project, the umbrella term coined to encompass all Shinra's initiatives for fighting the vampire virus. From the logistics and science of SOLDIER, to which craftsmen got the contracts to make wooden stakes, to PR personnel organising President Shinra's press tours, everything was stamped with the header 'Part of the Jenova Project' to differentiate it from the rest of Shinra's business. Project S was a ghost in the corporate machine. Nobody had all the facts about it. Cissnei had painstakingly discovered a tenuous connection to Nibelheim and run with it – apparently enough to make Rude notice, and possibly get the attention of those above him.

Looking at his impassive face, Cissnei corrected herself: _undoubtedly _those above him. Tseng really did know everything.

"Project S is not our concern," said Rude.

"Who says?"

"Those higher than us."

"Don't give me that crap. We're Turks. Information is our currency. We can't be expected to get the job done if we're working at a deficit."

Slowly, Rude raised one black-gloved hand and tilted his sunglasses enough to peer over them. His eyes were dark and the kind of intense that could melt steel at fifty paces. "This isn't about getting the job done. Not for you."

Cissnei glared. "I'm a Turk."

"So are we."

Ominousness crawled through her hairline, making it itch. "Am I your mission today?" she asked bluntly. "Were you sent to shut me up? Or shut me down?"

"Tseng thought you could use a reminder that the job is what is most important," Rude replied. His tone was polite but firm. "Nobody else knows what you've been looking for and they never will, as long as you stop leaving footprints that show them you've been playing in their yard."

"I just …" Cissnei deflated inside. Outside, she maintained her tough façade. She had been doing it for so long, it was no strain.

The job currently was to bring in Specimens Z and C. It could so easily turn into a termination mission. At the moment she could deal with capturing Zack and bringing him back. Whether or not she actually delivered him to Shinra was something she chose not to think about, if only because the fact her answer was not immediate genuinely scared her. If the order to terminate the two escapees came through, her loyalty would be tested out in the field, in front of witnesses, many of whom would prefer to consider her collateral damage. There was no love lost between Shinra's military and the Turks. The Turks creeped everyone out. Combine that with an itchy trigger finger and the prospect of not being punished afterwards for a stray bullet …

"Yeah," Reno said. "You just."

"There aren't any accessible records about what was done to them," Cissnei said quietly. "They were confined to the Nibelheim Laboratory for four years. Four _years_! Who are we – who is anyone – to take away a man's freedom after that?"

"You're presuming they're both still men," Rude deadpanned.

Cissnei fell silent. It was something she had considered. Then she had locked the possibility away at the very back of her brain and snapped the key off. "I can't ignore this," she said stubbornly.

"You're not being asked to," Rude replied. "You're being told to pay very close attention, but to the right subject. We're to concentrate our efforts on location and recapture, or at least observation to determine the next move Specimens Z and C might make."

"That's your area of expertise, sweet-cheeks," Reno said glibly. "If he is still alive, you know Fair better than any of us. You're the ace up our sleeve, so we really don't need you to appear on the wrong radar and disappear into thin air when we need your skills, yo."

Cissnei's glare could have levelled a city block. It bounced off both of them: _you are rubber, I am glue, it sticks to me after bouncing off you_. "Fine," she said eventually.

"You'll quit poking your nose where it don't belong?" Reno enquired.

"I'll stop being so obvious," she replied.

"That's all Tseng asks," Rude said. He pushed his shades back up his nose with the tip of one finger and turned to leave.

Reno followed him, hands deep in his pockets and grinning lewdly.

Yet it was Rude who surprised Cissnei by turning back one last time. "Don't get yourself killed, Cissnei. What you feel for Fair has to be in the past now. Five years is a long time. Even if he is still human, the law of probability states he won't be the man you knew. Not anymore."

Cissnei gaped at the glimpse of real emotion from him – spoken in a monotone and hidden behind his sunglasses and leather gloves, but still there at the core of his words. Rude wasn't parroting Tseng this time; he was talking for himself and urging her to be careful rather than just warning her off. She had no chance to respond, however. As if the moment had unnerved him as much as it had her, Rude strode away and Reno loped after him, leaving Cissnei alone with her thoughts.

….

_The temple was old stone, old beliefs, old ideas and old paint. New scorch marks, however. They licked up the outer wall and had turned half of one pillar black. Thin cracks speckled the soot where the paint had dried out and flaked off in the heat. With its half-fixed roof, footpath studded with craters and neatly tended lawn, the whole place looked like a leper holding his fingers on with sticky tape._

_She crawled through a gap in the outer wall. None of the adults knew about it, nor could they fit if they discovered it. She crossed the grounds easily, flowing between shadows to avoid detection. A pair of guards were supposed to be stationed at the entrance. Sure enough, they stood on either side of the door with spears propped on their shoulders and dozens of other weapons hidden around their bodies. The uniforms were so form-fitting, unwary and unknowing enemies assumed the spear was all they had. That lesson was short, quickly learned, and even more quickly forgotten when death claimed them. _

_She didn't even try to confront them. She had been casing the place for long enough to know there was no point. The temple's main entrance was its most fortified spot. The trick had been to locate the least fortified and use it to her advantage. As such, she clung to the deepest recesses of shadow, circling around to the back of the building where the Reflecting Pool had been allowed to overgrow. As with a lot of things these days, resources had been 'streamlined' to free up money and manpower for the war. What was necessary took pole position, overtaking everything else. Usually that was a giant bugbear of hers, but right now it was the key to gaining entrance to the temple._

_She slid into the water that formed a long causeway, straight on either side and lined with pebbles gathered from all corners of the land and chosen for their beauty. It made the sides too uneven to bump against without pain, but she was willing to risk it. Sliding into the thickest weeds, she ducked below the camouflage she had gathered and woven into what looked like just another pile of rotting vegetation. Her progress up the causeway was finger-numbingly slow to avoid suspicion if one of the guards decided now was a good time to patrol and wondered why one pile of muck was moving faster than the rest. The effort was worth it when she reached and passed through the duct she had broken for just this purpose a couple of visits ago. Travelling that was was smelly, claustrophobic and disgusting in so many ways, but eventually she raised her head and saw she had made it inside._

_Inside the temple was not nearly as well-guarded. She had snuck what remained of the archives after an air-raid took its toll. There she had borrow, copied and replaced her father's blueprint scroll and memorised the floor-plan in preparation for tonight. Her tutors often accused her of flightiness and an inability to plan ahead. True, more often than not she did leap before she looked – usually literally – but she wasn't a total moron. Those stuffy ass-hats would sure be surprised if they could see her now. _

_Actually, maybe they wouldn't. Covered in gunge, smelling like a chocobo dung-heap and sneaking around someplace she wasn't meant to be to steal something she wasn't meant to have? That was totally her bag._

_The shrine was in a vestibule that had seen better days. What hadn't in this place? She approached cautiously. She had never come this far before. This was definitely Point of No Return territory. If she bottled it now, there would be no second chance. The guards would be able to tell someone had been in here and no doubt assign someone to guard the shrine itself, not just the front door. This was her only opportunity and she intended to grab it._

_Literally._

_Her hands closed around the dusty jar. It was bigger than her head and heavier than it looked. It refused to budge. She tugged and heaved, but no cigar. Disappointed, she perched in lotus position on top of its wide lid, fisting a hand under her chin as she thought what to do next. _

_Maybe she should just smash it; but the legends said the jar was what was important. Maybe it was the jar itself, not its mysterious contents, which were imbued with the 'great power' she needed. She reached down to tap against the side: shave-and-a-haircut. There was no answering tap. Sighing, she raised her eyes to the ceiling for inspiration. _

_Which was when the lid moved._

"_Huh?" To get a better look she raised both feet, soles pressed together, balancing entirely on her scrawny butt. The swirly designs that covered the entire jar seemed to shift, sluggishly, like the long hair of someone waking up and raising their head after a rough night on the town. _

"_Hey!" yelled a voice. "Get down from there!"_

_Momentarily thinking it had come from inside the jar, she reared away and toppled backwards. She had time to notice the two guards rushing through the door, spears readied, before turning her fall into a handspring that saved her neck but kicked the jar away. The jar, which had previously been too heavy to budge an inch, arced through the air to shatter on the stone floor._

"_I told you I heard something from in here!" yelped the second guard. _

"_Shit!" cursed the first. "She broke it. She actually **broke** the sacred artefact!"_

"_Um, whoops?" she offered with a rueful smile. "Clumsy me."_

"_She broke it!" the guard continued to yell. "You broke it, you stupid – uh …" He stared at her face. She had taken her mask off so she could breathe without inhaling the foul stench of the Reflecting Pool. She knew he had recognised her by the widening of his eyes and the way his mouth dropped open. _

"_Oh joy," she muttered. "Rumbled."_

_But the guard wasn't looking at her, she realised a few seconds later. He may have recognised her, but she wasn't what held his attention. She followed the line of his gaze over her shoulder, to where the small statue that had been inside the broken jar also lay in pieces on the floor. A cloud of sandy brown dust was rising from the shards. As she watched, the last of the swirly patterns on the jar's surface quivered and vanished, as the magic that had been keeping whatever was now rising disappeared. The thing had been fighting them from the inside and she had help it by taking the more direct approach and using violence. As usual._

"_Crap." She backed away._

_The dust cloud churned, growing to an impossible size. No way that much dust could fit into that size jar. Limbs appeared briefly, like someone running through fog or in and out of strobing lights. Something that could have been an eye peered out. A pair of ears pricked towards her. She could see them clearly: triangle shaped and tipped with tufts of white fur. _

"_Crap on **toast**!" _

_She turned to run, the way the two guards already had. She had barely gone three steps when the thing inside the dust cloud shrieked and descended on her. She choked, trying to breathe. Her feet left the ground. White hot agony shot down her spine, branching out when it reached her tailbone. Her entire body felt like it was being stretched in several directions at once. She opened her mouth to scream, feeling her teeth sharpen and elongate as her jaws gaped wider than had ever been possible before. _

_She was glad when the darkness came and she could feel nothing at all._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	16. Jenova Makes Her Move

.

* * *

><p><strong>16. Jenova Makes Her Move<strong>

* * *

><p>Zack was curled up on the floor of the cabin. He opened one eye when Alpha spoke, but closed it again immediately.<p>

_**Get up.**_

Alpha circled, but stopped short of nosing Zack's mind. He knew Zack was conscious. Zack pretended he didn't care, relaxing his muscles as if going back to sleep. Alpha sat at the edge of his thoughts.

_**Get up.**_

Zack's paws flexed, but he kept his tail over his nose. His breath reflected warmly back into his face. When Alpha fell silent, he thought maybe he had won some respite from the wolf's constant harping. That is, until Alpha lunged into Zack's mind with the equivalent of a bite. Zack leapt to his paws and turned three times in a circle, fangs bared. He pulled up short when he realised what had happened. Alpha had attacked him inside his mind. He snarled again, hackles raised.

_Get out!_

Alpha was unrepentant. An answering snarl curled into Zack's mind, wrapping around his thoughts like mist. When Zack snarled louder, Alpha's spirit rose like a shadow towering over him, the snarl a thunder-crack. Zack's ears flattened against his skull on instinct. He rallied himself and kept up his snarl, but Alpha's drowned his out. It worked its way into every crevice of his thoughts until he crouched backwards and whined.

_**Get up.**_

_Get out of my head!_

_**Get up. **_The image of a straight tail and bared teeth accompanied Alpha's growl. Though he didn't know how, Zack knew these meant Alpha was living up to the name; asserting dominance to force a lesser pack-member into submission. _**Get. Up.**_ Alpha's power was so great it was choking.

Zack didn't realise he was staggering until he knocked against the wooden chair. It toppled over with a crash. He shook his head, half a snarl quivering on his lips.

_**Get up.**_

_I am up!_

_**No.**_Alpha's denial was like being hit in the head with an iron bar. _**Stuck. Stuck in down-place.**_

_What? _

_**Puppy.**_Some of the anger faded from Alpha's voice. _**No change. Four days. Can't stay like this.**_

Zack shook his head again. So what if he hadn't changed back into his human body? He could hunt better like this. Being human wasn't what he needed right now. He would change back eventually, but not now. Not after what had happened.

_**Not your fault.**_

_I should have realised._

_**Not your fault,**_Alpha insisted. _**This not helping. Not feel better. Running away without running anywhere.**_

_Go away._

_**To where?**_the wolf spiritasked sensibly. _**Part of you.**_

_Then at least shut up._

_**Not until get up. Stop blaming self. **_

Zack growled. Immediately he felt as if another body was pressing down on him, four paws planted around him in cold snow. His back felt wet and cold, his throat exposed. A memory that wasn't his flashed into his mind: an older, more powerful wolf bearing down with bloodied fangs after a battle for leadership. Zack cowered, in the dream and in reality. The wolf made as if to bite into his soft neck, but pulled away, showing mercy. The memory vanished but the presence did not.

_**Get up,**_saidAlpha. _**Move.**_

Grudgingly Zack concentrated and uncoiled from his wolf body. He shivered in the cold, reaching for clothes. His hand brushed against something solid but fleshy under fabric. He jerked his hand back when he realised he had grabbed Cloud's leg.

Cloud, prostrate on the bed, eyes closed as they had been since Zack brought him home. Not that this was home, but then not that this was really Cloud. Not how he used to be. Not the Cloud Zack had met so long ago and grown to care for like a brother.

Zack turned his face away.

_**Look.**_ Alpha's order couldn't be disobeyed. Zack tried and failed. He looked at Cloud. _**Not. Your. Fault.**_

"He's my friend," Zack whispered. "I should've been able to protect him."

_**How? When? Puppy is strong, but not that strong. Not strong enough. Fate stronger.**_

"Fate?" Zack snorted. "You're saying it was Cloud's _fate_ to end up like this?"

_**Maybe.**_

"Bullshit."

Alpha growled. _**Past can't be changed. Useless. Wastes energy. Think of future. Work for future. Look forward. Not back.**_

"But –"

_**Spirits strong. Fate strong. Alpha strong. Not one can go back. Nothing that strong. Time move forward. So must Puppy. So must Alpha.**_

Something about the way Alpha 'said' those last three words gave Zack pause. There was more there than the words alone supplied. He squinted, eyes moving around as they were wont to do when he was talking with the spirit. It was difficult, not having a face to concentrate on when speaking to someone.

"Is there something in your past you'd rather not think about too? Something you regret?"

Alpha actually fell quiet for a moment. _**Always something for everyone.**_

"I'm not asking about everyone. You've seen my greatest regrets, Alpha. You asked me to trust you unconditionally. I've done that, but you haven't told me much about what you're getting from this deal. If you truly are connected with every wolf on the Planet, why the hell would you need my body to walk around in? Or if it's the other way around, why would you give me yours to use like I've been doing?"

**_Complicated_.**

"I've got nothing but time." To emphasise, Zack yanked on a sweater and pants, then sat on the floor and pulled a blanket around himself like a little kid waiting to be told a story by the fire. "I'm waiting."

Alpha hesitated, apparently wrong-footed by this turn of events. Zack felt the spirit pacing like a wolf confronted with a free meal that was so good it was probably a trap set by a hunter. A memory splashed briefly against his mind: a white female wolf sniffing at the apparently cast-aside head of an elk, only to find her foot caught in a snare. Alpha eventually sat down at the edge of Zack's mind, putting distance between them before speaking again.

_**Life is magic. Magic is life. Find magic to find life for self. Find life to find magic for self.**_

"I don't understand," said Zack.

Alpha shook a massive shaggy head. Zack caught visions of grey fur, then brown, then gold and white, then back to grey.

_**Nobody did. Alpha is old, Puppy. Very old. Old as wolves themselves. Wolves exist, so Alpha exists. Lesser spirits not as old. Have no followers or disciples to give them power. Died out. Long time ago, world full of spirits and magic and elves and humans. Now almost all elves dead, or blood too thin to make difference. Their magic almost dead. Lesser spirits got no power; useless or dead. **_

"Spirits can die?" Zack asked. The thought hadn't ever occurred to him. Spirits were … well, spirits. They were just energy, weren't they? Energy couldn't be created or destroyed; it could only change form.

_**True,**_ said Alpha. _**Dead spirits' energy go elsewhere. Dissipate. Alpha and spirits and elves and winged-ones fight Jenova-calamity-monster when first landed. Monster defeated, but not dead. Incapacitated. Elves put enchanted spear through heart. Living wood poison to Jenova-calamity-monster, just like ordinary wood poison to her creations. Jenova-calamity-monster can't move. Can't fight. Still alive though. Took dissipated energy. Refuelled. Made blood-creations. Sealed away, dug up, contained by science, but still evil. Still spreading evil.**_

"What?" Zack sat up. "You fought Jenova?"

_**Yes.**_

"_The _Jenova? As in the original source of the vampirism virus? Is that what you mean by 'blood-creations'?"

_**Yes.**_

"The Jenova whose head Sephiroth stole from the Nibelheim reactor?"

_**Yes.**_

"Shit."

_**Not your fault. Puppy fought hard. Almost died. Sephiroth too strong. Strongest of all blood-creations. Jenova's own pup. Alpha grateful Puppy survived. Chose you as avatar. Magic in the world not strong enough for Alpha to have own physical form anymore. All spirits must have avatars if want to fight new evil. Not all spirits strong enough to choose avatars or use. Oldest best. **_

Zack's mind whirled. His brain had snagged on something Alpha said. "What do you mean 'Jenova's own pup'?"

_**Sephiroth son of man and Jenova-calamity-monster carried in human female belly. Mother Jenova. Father Hojo-torturer-scientist-man. Corrupt man. Evil man. Sephiroth not know. Learned truth in Nibelheim. Too close to Jenova-calamity-monster. Mind snap. She took him. Made fully blood-creation-son but also human. She called. He went to her. You went to him. Puppy knows rest. **_

Which explained why Sephiroth had been a vampire but had also possessed a pulse. He was no ordinary vamp. Something had happened in Nibelheim that had snapped his mind, and in that instant Jenova had somehow turned him; perhaps tuning into the part of his DNA that was hers and manipulating it as well as his mind. It was too impossible to be true, and yet a lot of things suddenly made sense. Zack's heart lurched to think of it. He had felt so betrayed by Sephiroth, but apparently Sephiroth had undergone his own betrayal that night.

Zack got to his feet. "Is he still alive?"

_**Puppy,**_ Alpha warned. _**No.**_

"If he's alive, I have to help him."

_**Can't. Blood-drinker now. Hers now.**_

"But –"

_**Bigger things to worry about!**_ Alpha snapped. _**Sephiroth only one part.**__**Jenova-calamity-monster building army. Elves dead now. Spirits weak. Human magic not enough. Nobody to stand against new evil. Jenova-calamity-monster can't fight like before, but army huge. Spirits gathering as best as spirits can. Only old spirits. Only those who think have something to lose. Not all realise. Not all capable of standing against her. Alpha chose Puppy because Puppy won't back down. Puppy will fight even if scared. Puppy will fight if loved ones threatened. Puppy will defend mate and pack. Puppy very like wolf. Very like Alpha. Puppy wanted to know reason for deal. There reasons. Alpha needs puppy to help save world.**_

Zack stood there, stunned. Eventually he cleared his throat. "So," he croaked. "No pressure."

Alpha's invisible tail twitched. _**Life is magic. Magic is life. Puppy have magic now – Alpha's magic. Only way to separate avatar and spirit is for avatar to die. Puppy can now defend life – own and others'. Puppy's life is magic for Alpha. Without Puppy, Alpha can't save anything. Big task. Couldn't say before. Too big. Puppy had other worries.**_

"And I don't now?" Zack laughed hoarsely, glancing at Cloud.

_**Situation changed.**_

"Changed? Changed how?"

_**Jenova has made move.**_

"When? Where? How?"

_**Calling army to her.**_

"But Sephiroth cut off her head! Decapitation kills vampires!"

_**Not her.**_

"He went into the reactor with it! Nothing could survive that!"

_**Monster.**_ Alpha actually whined, as if not wanting to reveal this last piece of critical information. _**Both still alive.**_

Which was the moment Cloud sat bolt upright in the bed and said, "They're calling me! I have to go!"

* * *

><p>"<em>I can't believe it." Hojo was still wheezy with excitement. Seven days after the initial discovery and he had yet to catch his breath. He had initially grumbled at being summoned from his lab-work to a stupid archaeological dig. He wasn't grumbling anymore. "An actual find in the middle of nowhere. And <em>_**what**_ _a find! Tremendous. Absolutely tremendous. Historical! A find like this in a backwater like that …"_

_The place was so remote it didn't even have a name. Locals – which meant superstitious villagers fifty miles away – simply called it 'North Crater', as if there were similar ones east, west and south. There weren't. It was the site of a meteorite crash over two thousand years ago, which had devastated the ecosystem to the point where it was still recovering millennia later. Those same villagers had wittered about ancient curses and unholy ground, but of course the dig team hadn't listened. Science said there was a mako deposit in the area. When they found something other than that they had sent word back to Shinra and the company had dispatched their mako expert, thinking he would be able to figure out a way for them to exploit whatever it was._

_Hojo stared at what had been unearthed. It was impossible, but the body was still fresh. It wasn't mummified, even though the ground hadn't been disturbed in hundreds of years – maybe even thousands. The villagers certainly hadn't disturbed it. They seemed frightened of the area in their backwater, superstitious way. Rationally speaking, the region was too inhospitable to sustain life. Who wanted to eke a living in the middle of a dead wasteland where even weeds wouldn't grow? Shinra had thought there would be a rich mako supply to tap. Instead, they had found … her._

_It was a woman, Hojo knew; naked and recognisable despite the spears that had turned her body into a pincushion. The spears were practically prehistoric, ornamented with desiccated feathers and leather wrappings, placed so warriors could get a better grip when throwing. Her skin was pale blue, lips and nipples almost white, her long hair a darker shade of azure. Her eyes were closed, lashes curled delicately against her cheeks in a beatific expression. She looked like she could have died this morning. When the team moved her, fresh blue fluid spilled like blood from where the wooden spears were embedded in her flesh. Aside from the skin tone and still-bleeding wounds, she was perfect; the kind of beautiful that made men's hearts stop. Despite it being unscientific, Hojo wanted to rip the spears out of her to make her whole again, but they had refused to come out. If he had been a less scientific man, he would have thought they had been enchanted by ancient magic to remain where they had landed. _

"_S-Sir?"_

_Hojo's gaze snapped to the man at his side. "What?"_

_The man attempted to hide behind his clipboard. "You've been staring for nearly twenty minutes, sir. The first rounds of lab results have come back and I thought you'd want to see them. They, uh, they date the specimen as, uh …" He trailed off at Hojo's thunderous expression._

"_Leave them there," Hojo ground out. _

_He watched the man abandon his papers and scuttle away, pathetic worm. Hojo turned his eyes back to the glass tube. It had been filled with a specialised chemical solution to transport her without damaging her or losing any more precious liquid from her insides. She hung suspended in it like a goddess in one of those paintings President Shinra liked to collect: all flowing robes, big-bottomed women and deities getting up to naughty things. She would have looked at home in ancient decadence, but he knew instinctively that she wouldn't have partaken. No, she would have swept through the bacchanalia in a bloody swathe and made her own decadence of gore and domination. She was a **true** goddess._

_Something tickled the back of his mind. He didn't register it. It would be weeks before the tickle became a thought, and weeks more before the thought became a decision. When it did, Hojo would wonder why it hadn't come to him sooner. He wouldn't know it was because his goddess hadn't had the power yet. She had been pulling it out of the ether, reforming chaotic, free-floating spiritual energy into power for herself after her long hibernation. He wouldn't even question why he would think to do such a thing. All he would know was a formless desire to please the voice in his head the only way he knew how: with the power of modern science._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	17. Waiting For Word

_._

* * *

><p><strong>17. Waiting For Word<strong>

* * *

><p>Aerith knelt beside her flowers, packing soil around her new seedlings with a trowel. It was busywork; something she didn't have to think too hard about, but enough to distract her from her chaotic mind.<p>

She had dreamed again last night. It had woken her at two in the morning. She felt like a naughty little girl who had wet the bed, sneaking downstairs to push her sweat-drenched sheets through the ancient mangle. She knew such things as tumble-dryers existed, but they were a strictly above-Plate device. Besides, as long as she remembered to oil it regularly the mangle made less noise than a machine. She could spread her damp sheets back on her bed without her mother noticing, and the heat of life below the Plate would creep through their windows the next day to dry it before she had to go to bed again the next evening.

Going to bed was a double-edged sword these days. She wanted her dreams as much as she feared them. She knew they weren't simply nightmares, but portents of things she didn't really understand. They were yet another scrap of her elf magic showing itself, alongside her ability to make things grow anywhere, her minor healing and several other 'powers' that were really just tricks with delusions of grandeur. Aerith didn't fool herself that she was more than she was. She might be the last elf – apparently, according to some people, not all of whom were to be believed or trusted – but the elven magic ran so thin in her veins any ancestor would probably be ashamed to claim her as part of their bloodline.

The seedlings brushed her fingertips as she brushed over their leaves. One put on a burst of speed and curled a scrawny vine around her index finger, risking being uprooted by accident. Aerith smiled as she unwrapped and pushed it back like an overeager puppy.

"Now, now," she scolded. "None of that. You aren't nearly strong enough to be expending so much energy just to get my attention."

On the walls, the climbing roses shushed their assent. They had been growing for years and she still wouldn't let them comfort her by twining in her hair the way they wanted. It was difficult enough for them to grow in the city; she refused to let them exhaust themselves needlessly.

Aerith sat back on her heels. Zack had helped her plant those roses. He had brought back a cutting from some foreign place, snuck back in his kitbag along with half a dozen other things that hadn't survived the trip. She remembered his face, so apologetic as he handed over the smashed plants. He had dug out a hollow for her to plant the survivor with his gloved hands, since the last time he used one of her gardening tools he accidentally bent it out of shape with his SOLDIER strength. He had promised to replace the spade after he got back from his assignment. He had promised to come over and let her practise making dinner for him again after her last disastrous attempt. He had promised to come back as soon as he could.

That was years ago. She was still waiting for him to make good on his promises.

The roses rasped a thorny plea for her not to be sad. She still had them. The azaleas assented, as did the honeysuckle clambering over the smashed pews on the left side of the old church. Nearly every available surface was covered in some plant or other; some flowering, some not. Aerith didn't discriminate between florae and weeds; if it could grow down here, it deserved a chance at life. Where there was life, there was hope, and she needed as much of that as possible these days. Even the old pulpit was home to flourishing ivy creepers, which stuck to their own patch and didn't attempt to overtake anywhere else after she'd had stern words with them. You had to be firm with ivy. Give an inch and it really would take a mile.

"I know," she replied aloud. "But I can't help it. It's like trying to ignore a blister on your foot; you can for a while, but the more you walk on it, the worse it gets and the harder it is to ignore."

Not for the first time, she wondered what others would think if they walked in and saw her talking to empty air. When she was a little kid, her mom once found her encouraging an egg-box of watercress that had just started to sprout. Aerith realised early on that not everybody could communicate with plants the way she could. She realised, too, that it was important everybody didn't find out what she could do. Shinra had a habit of snatching away people who could do extraordinary things. There were all sorts of stories about what happened to them, none good. Aerith wanted nothing more than to stay here, with her mom and her plants and … and Zack.

She dropped her chin onto her chest. Zack had been in her dreams a lot lately. He wasn't dead. Never mind what anyone said, he _wasn't dead._ He hadn't betrayed anyone, either. Not Zack. Loyalty was written into his DNA the way magic was written into hers.

"Four years is too long to wait for any boy, sweetheart," her mom had tried to tell her just last week. "Zack was nice, but he's not the only fish in the sea."

"Mo-om!"

"Don't take that tone with me. I'm just trying to look out for you. You're young and pretty, and you have a good head on your shoulders, but you're wasting your youth on someone who isn't coming back for you. You need to get out more."

"I do go out."

"Only to sell flowers – which I'm also not happy about. What if Shinra starts asking questions about where you get those damned things? What will you say then? You can't claim you just found them growing in the gutters. They know how impossible it is to grow things under the Plate."

"Difficult, Mom, but not impossible."

"As near as makes no difference. Those flowers are trouble waiting to happen to you. Why you insist on going out to sell them on that silly little cart, I don't know."

Because Zack had made the cart for her. Because Zack used to go out with her to sell them. Because as long as she kept doing it, she could pretend like he was about to come puffing up to her, apologising for being late, and put a rose stem between his teeth in an attempt to look dashing and like the thorns weren't cutting his mouth to ribbons. "Because we need the money," she had said instead.

"Not if the cost of getting it is so high."

"Shinra has bigger things to worry about than me selling some posies, Mom. Vampires, for one. Or did you forget about them?"

"Don't sass me, young lady. The company isn't blind to everything else just because of the vampires. You need to keep your head down or who knows what'll happen!"

"Mom, I'm _fine_."

"For now! But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? Or the day after that? What about when someone finally realises you're not –" Her mom had broken off then, but they had both heard the end of her sentence: _when someone finally realises you're not normal._

Her mom didn't mean to be cruel, but four years of watching her daughter wait for the man who had abandoned her was more than her maternal instincts could handle. Aerith couldn't find the words to explain that Zack hadn't had a choice about abandoning her, just as she didn't have words to explain about the derelict church and her secret garden. She knew her mom was iffy about the whole magic thing; she worried Turks would come sniffing around again, as they had when Aerith was small enough to be picked up by a stranger in a crowd and carried off. Well-placed mommy-screaming and a crowd of people willing to snatch her back again had rescued Aerith that time, but she had been told ever since that she had to act normal or 'they' would 'come back to get her'.

Instinctively she reached up to make sure her ringlets were still over her ears. The pointed tips had sharpened and elongated as she got older. Her mom had insisted on her adopting a style to conceal them. Nothing said 'elf' like pale skin, green eyes and pointy ears.

A noise above made her look up. The roses rasped angrily. Roses were always more aggressive than other plants, though the ivy had a thing or two to say about the invasion too.

"Hello, Cissnei."

The woman dropped from her perch on the statue of the Virgin Mary. The nose had broken off years ago and her raised hand was missing. There wasn't much faith in this part of Midgar anymore. Cissnei landed lightly and came over, standing behind Aerith with hips canted, one hand placed on it while the other hung loosely by her side. To the unwary, she might have seemed at ease, but Aerith knew better. Cissnei had visited her lots since Zack disappeared and had a host of her own secrets she wasn't telling. Some were better kept than others; like her feelings for Zack, which they never, ever talked about. Ever.

"Hello, Aerith," said Cissnei. "How are you today?"

Aerith swivelled to look up at her. Cissnei was beautiful in a harsh sort of way. Her features were soft and her hairstyle very feminine compared with other Turks, but her eyes were too suspicious and made the rest of her look constantly tense. "I'm fine, thank you. Are you all right?"

"Oh, fine," Cissnei replied breezily. Aerith didn't believe her for a second. "Just thought I'd drop in to check on you."

"Did Tseng send you?"

"Ah, no."

Aerith blinked in surprise. Tseng usually sent Cissnei to try and cajole her into joining Shinra. He typically promised her a position in his Turks, citing how much safer she would be there than out in the world where her abilities put her at constant risk of being picked up by other members of Shinra. To Tseng, any human with magic should be in the Turks. Whether or not he knew she was elf – well, part-elf – didn't seem to matter as much as it had done when his predecessor, Veld, was in charge and had ordered eight year old Aerith to be snatched off the street on her way home from school. Veld had wanted to deliver her to his bosses as a test subject. Tseng wanted her as an employee. Aerith wasn't interested in either, but Tseng was more willing to observe her request to be left alone. At least until next time.

At first Aerith had assumed Cissnei was being sent out to recruit her because she was female and not as scary as some of the other women the Turks had on roll. Gradually she had realised Tseng probably wanted their shared connection with Zack to motivate her onto his team. Aerith still refused. Her dreams were infrequent and muddled, but sometimes she got clear messages and the clearest over the last four years had been threefold: Zack wasn't dead, he was in pain somewhere, and if she joined Shinra it would be the worst thing she ever did

"So why are you here?" she asked Cissnei now.

"Can't I visit a friend without getting interrogated?"

"We're friends?"

Cissnei pulled a face. "Okay, so maybe that's stretching things a bit."

"A bit," Aerith agreed. She got to her feet and brushed off her skirt. "What do you want, Cissnei?"

Cissnei let out a breath and fixed her with a business-like look. "I want to know what you can tell me about Zack."

"We've already been over this more times than I can count; I can tell you about the time we spent together four years ago, but nothing else. Why would I be able to?"

"Cut the crap, Aerith. We both know you know more than you let on. Now it's imperative for you to tell me." She hesitated. "Off the books. This isn't for Shinra. In fact, this might well get me put on their hit list if what I'm doing reached the wrong ears."

A tingle went up Aerith's spine. "And what are you doing?" she asked carefully, still trying to feign ignorance.

Cissnei's gaze was clear and frank. "I'm trying to save him. He's still alive, Aerith. I don't know what kind of shape he's in or what's happened to him since he disappeared, but I know he's alive and he's in trouble. Shinra is after him. They want to either recapture him or kill him. So whatever information you have, you've got to tell me. It might be the difference between life and death for him and his friend."

The tingle turned into an electric shock. Aerith had _known_ he was still alive, but it was still a shock to hear someone else confirm it. Her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow before speaking again. "What makes you think I know anything you don't already know?"

"Because you have powers I don't. I have my own, but they're being blocked." That was more candid than she usually got. Aerith's mouth went even drier. "Tell me or he could die. For real this time."

Aerith slowly nodded. She closed her eyes. "I've had … dreams," she admitted. "I don't understand them, not really, but a few things keep popping up."

"What?"

"Images mostly. Some words. Smells, too, which is weird because dreams aren't supposed to be smelly." She reopened her eyes to find Cissnei nodding. "They're only flashes, but they've been coming nearly every night since last December."

Cissnei's eyes flashed. They literally flashed gold for a second with magical power. Flecks of gold crackled in her irises afterwards, thought her body language remained casual. Aerith wondered whether she realised it was happening. As far as tells went, it was an incredibly blatant one. She hoped Cissnei never tried to play high-stakes poker. "Do you remember the exact date?" she asked.

Aerith did remember, because on that day she had managed to coax daffodils to blossom in the church when she never could before. She had marked it on the calendar in triumph. "December 19th."

Cissnei nodded again. "That's the day they broke out. What else have you dreamed?"

"White. Cold." Aerith brought up what she could remember. "Paw-prints. I think he was tracking something, or it was tracking him, I'm not sure. Hunger. He's always hungry. Sometimes I hear howling, or crying, or something like that. It's eerie. Kind of sad. He's waiting for something. I don't know what, but it's important enough to make him stay in one place when he knows he should be running away."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Aerith bit her lip. "Blood," she said eventually. "Blood on snow. Red eyes. Sharp teeth."

"A vampire," Cissnei hissed. "Damn. Did he kill it?"

Aerith shook her head. Even thinking about the dream brought back her own experiences of blood and snow. That had been so many years ago, but she had got out the memory so infrequently it was barely dented and played with perfect, horrible clarity.

"Double damn," Cissnei cursed.

"He was upset." Aerith remembered the sucking sensation of Zack's grief and regret pulling him down. It had made her sob when she woke and grasped just how helpless she was. She couldn't do anything for him – except, perhaps, this. Cissnei had contacts and facilities she didn't. She could do more for Zack than Aerith could. The realisation should have smarted, especially given how Cissnei felt about him, but all Aerith could feel was gratitude that _someone _was on his side. "He's … he's hurting inside."

The barest hint of a wince crossed Cissnei's face. "Anything else?" she asked briskly.

"He has someone with him."

"Specimen C," Cissnei confirmed. Apparently she was willing to exchange a few of Shinra's secrets for Aerith's. Not that she had given an actual name, but it was more than Aerith had expected.

Even so, she shook her head. "No, whatever it is, it's not human."

"The vampire?"

Aerith considered this but rejected the idea. "I'm not sure what it is. It's old, though. Very old and very powerful."

Cissnei became thoughtful. She cupped her elbow with one palm and tapped the index finger of her other hand against her mouth. It was a gesture so automatic it had to be a longstanding one, but Aerith had never seen her do it before. Cissnei certainly was letting down her guard today. "Did you hear it speak?"

"No."

"Hmm." She frowned, momentarily lost in her own thoughts. "Anything else?"

"He's going to move soon."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Any idea where to? Or at least which direction?"

"Sorry, no. I just know he's not going to be where he's been for much longer. I don't know why or where he'll go."

Cissnei waved her upraised hand dismissively. "You've given me a lot. More than I was expecting, actually. It sounds like he stayed in the mountains after breaking out. I have a few guesses why he'd do something stupid like that, but nothing concrete. The main thing is to find and get hold of him – of both of them – before Shinra does, which may be more doable now." She turned to leave.

"What will you do if you find him?" Aerith asked.

Cissnei stopped and looked over her shoulder. "What else? Save him, of course."

She turned away and took a running jump at the Virgin Mary statue, finding handholds and footholds that allowed her to climb up to the choir balcony. It wasn't safe up there with the rotten floorboards, but somehow Cissnei tripped lightly along without falling through. When she got to the far side she stopped, poised on the edge like a cat ready to spring. She was all coiled energy, her whole body lithe and enviably fit.

"Hey, Aerith," she called without looking back. "Thanks for the assist."

"I –" Aerith started to say, but it was too late. Cissnei had launched herself at the wall, scrambled up into the rafters and disappeared.

* * *

><p><em>Ifalna ran. She clutched her little girl in her arms, stumbling through thick banks of snow. She had escaped out the garbage chute because Gast had barricaded the door from the other side and every other exit was blocked with armed men. She had landed in a dumpster where the slops were already submerged in the evening's snowfall. Getting out had been slippery and she had banged her shin and her elbow hard enough to draw blood. It was soaking into her thermals beneath her dress. There hadn't been time to put on a coat. The dumpster held little garbage since Icicle Inn didn't get many guests during the winter. Gast had thought that would make it the perfect place to hole up while they planned their next move. Shinra would expect him to go to a built-up area since he liked his home comforts. He was famous amongst his peers for knowing the difference between good wine, bad wine and plonk, and for always drinking tea with his pinkie raised. A frozen wasteland where polar bears outnumbered people would be the last place they'd think to look.<em>

_He had been wrong. He had been wrong about a lot of things. He had been wrong to think Shinra would just let a prominent researcher like him go. He had been wrong to think they didn't know what Ifalna was despite his falsified reports on her genetic structure. He had been wrong to think cutting and running was the best thing to do when he found out they were going to his house in Kalm without his permission to arrest her and their daughter 'for questioning'._

_Nobody had cleared a path through the snow behind the inn. When Ifalna reached the area beyond the reach of the building's lights, she dived into shadows and held a mitten over her mouth to stifle her ragged breathing._

"_Mommy?"_

"_Shh, Aerith." She put the mitten over her daughter's mouth instead. "You have to stay quiet. Whatever happens, you can't make a sound."_

"_But Mommy, I'm frightened."_

"_Be **quiet**, Aerith," she begged. Fear and grief made her voice shrill._

_Voices and snarling heralded the sound of Gast's barricades breaking. Shinra's men had reached the kitchen and discovered she was gone. She knew her scent would alert them if they had dogs, or whatever equivalent they had cooked up in their laboratories. Gast had told her about some of the things his colleagues, Hojo and Hollander, had done with their work while he was out in the field. Years ago she had stayed with a woman whose elven blood was so thin she could hear the Planet but not touch it with her mind. In exchange for shelter and food, Ifalna had taught her how to deafen herself to the unnatural crying of a whole world in pain. The woman had been so pleased to finally sleep without nightmares she had tried to make her stay when it was time to move on. Ifalna later heard the woman had been killed by what her neighbours described as 'hellhounds on leashes' when Shinra men came to arrest her._

_They had been arresting everyone with even a hint of elven blood. Ifalna didn't know how they knew where to look or who to take. The average person couldn't tell a human from a mutt, much less a pureblood elf, though there were so few of those anymore it barely mattered. Ifalna was the only pureblood she knew of since her own parents died. She didn't know why Shinra had taken a sudden interest in when elves were supposed to be extinct. The rest of the world had forgotten or decided they were just a myth, but not Shinra. One of her gifts was to sense her own kind, and so she had felt more and more of their lights snuffing out as they died, and Gast's secret investigations had revealed every death she felt was preceded by an 'arrest'. The deaths of the elves coincided with the rise of the vampires, which made her wonder what Shinra's part in this truly was and had prompted Gast to question the company to which he had always been so loyal._

_Ifalna had spent her whole life moving from one place to another; usually families with a little elven blood, but sometimes not. Her gifts were stronger than anyone she met, just like her bloodline. They told her to never stay in one place too long, to live off the grid and never let her powers make her stand out. They told her who to trust and who not to trust. She could have manipulated people with what she sensed about them and lived like a queen. Instead, she chose the life of a nomad – or had until she made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man and bearing his child._

_Gast had promised he would protect her. He had promised he would find out what Shinra wanted with the elves, and then why they seemed to be wiping out the last of her people. He had failed on all counts. He had promised he would someday leave the company and his research for love of her. He had left for her, but the way he had done it had brought more problems than solutions. Shinra had chased him like an escaped piece of livestock and it had led them right to Ifalna. She knew she and Aerith were the only ones left now. She hadn't been in the room, but she also knew Gast was dead – killed trying to fulfil his promise of protecting them after his ill-conceived actions brought Shinra's wrath on their heads. She had sensed his life go out like a candle flame on the other side of that barricaded door. _

_And so she had run. She didn't know where and she didn't know if she would die of frostbite before she got there, but she had to protect her daughter. Shinra wouldn't get Aerith too. _

_Dogs barked behind her. She staggered on. Her shin and elbow throbbed. The barking got louder. Aerith pressed her face against her mother's chest, little hands clutching handfuls of Ifalna's dress. She was trembling with fear and cold. Ifalna's boots filled with snow that melted and squished between her toes. She fought on, but she was too slow and she knew it. They were going to catch her._

_A four-legged monster with teeth as long as her palm leapt over the bank behind her. Ifalna turned so her back was to the beast, using her body to shield Aerith. She expected to feel fangs pierce her back. Instead, something swooped out of the sky and cannoned into the dog. It yelped and flew backwards from the impact. The bigger shape beat massive wings and landed in front of Ifalna, casting her in even deeper shadow. _

"_No!" she shouted, thinking it was another of Shinra's freaks. "Keep away from us!"_

"_I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you."_

_Strong arms gathered her up before she could protest or the dog could regroup, but not before two others also crested the ridge. Two sets of teeth snapped at the air as Ifalna's rescuer took flight. One dog aimed for the massive wings, sending her rescuer off-balance with the added weight. The other used the opportunity to close its jaws over her ankle and bite deep. A terrible crunching sounded as it sank into and then through bone and sinew. She screamed. Spurred on by the noise, the dog brought its razor teeth together, shaking her like a terrier even as her rescuer threw off the other dog and rose into the air. The dog's paws left the ground and scrabbled at empty space as it jerked its neck from side to side, trying to pull her out of her rescuer's arms. Instinctively she kicked at its face with her other foot, screaming all the while. The dog bit harder, severing the ankle in a gush of blood. It fell back into the snow and sprang to its paws, spitting her foot out so it could bark._

_Ifalna's vision swam. White heat coursed up her leg, speckling her vision with black spots. Her arms clutched convulsively, making Aerith squeak. She was going into shock. Cold air blew against her face and she thought she heard her rescuer say something, but the pounding in her ears drowned it out. _

_Somewhere below, guns went off. More pain ripped through her body, but it all blended together after a millisecond: one blistering surge of agony that crested crashed over her like a wave of lava. Though she fought it, the world dissolved in a flurry of growing black patches and she passed out. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	18. Answering Jenova's Call

_._

* * *

><p><strong>18. Answering Jenova's Call<strong>

* * *

><p>Zack shed clothing as he ran. Cloud had got in a lucky shot but it had knocked him out long enough for his friend to get out of the cabin. When he came around a few minutes later Cloud was gone. Zack ran after the footprints in the snow, shifting forms as he went. When he was fully wolfed out he put his head down, opened his nose and sprinted the way only a wolf can.<p>

Cloud's vampire speed had taken him as far as a small gully on the downward slope by the time Zack caught up with him. Back at the cabin Zack had tried to reason with his friend. This time he just landed on him with all four paws on his back. Cloud landed face-down, but instead of fighting against Zack he only fought to get free so he could keep moving.

"I have to go," he intoned. "They're calling me. I have to go."

_Snap out of it, buddy!_ Zack wanted to shout. Instead all that came out were grunts and growls that would have made real wolves look at him askance. He crouched, bearing all his weight down on his friend to pin him in place. If Cloud had been firing on all cylinders he probably could have thrown him off, but Cloud was too obsessed with answering the call to think logically. _Alpha? What do I do now?_

Alpha paced around the scene, silent and invisible. _**Can't hold him forever.**_

_I know that! Tell me what to do instead!_

_**Jenova-calamity-monster calling her kin. Brother-Cloud is her kin and your kin. Puppy must be louder than Jenova-calamity-monster.**_

_How do I do that?_

_**Puppy knows Brother-Cloud better than Alpha.**_

That was true. It didn't actually help though. Knowing Cloud better than anyone else didn't mean Zack could reason with him when he was like this. Cloud's eyes were red and glassy, his movements and speech robotic. This wasn't like before, when he had been so hungry and desperate he had drunk from Zack and then guiltily fought his own nature. This was more like pigeons flying home, or salmon swimming upstream to their breeding grounds, or frogs travelling long distances to the ponds of their birth. Those kinds of powerful animal instincts were irrational and frequently got those afflicted by them killed. Zack could see Alpha's memories of wolves across the world snapping up easy meals that way. Jenova was appealing to the basest part of her vampires' brains if she was able to invoke a homing instinct to bring them to her. Could reason ever compete with something so ancient and powerful?

Impossible as it seemed, Zack had to try. He couldn't let her have Cloud. Unable to think of anything else, he started to shift back to human. He needed a mouth and working vocal chords. When he was partway through the change he stopped, thankful he had managed to retain his claws and some of his weight. He was getting more practised. Cloud bucked, but Zack sank what were now elongated fingernails into his shoulders and dug deep, hoping the pain would shock Cloud out of his stupor long enough to hear him.

"Your name is Cloud Strife," Zack yelled. "Your mom's name was Dala and your dad's name was Skye. You grew up in Nibelheim, on Mount Nibel. You hate being called a country bumpkin. You joined Shinra because you wanted to become a SOLDIER and fight the vampires. We're best friends, you and me, Zack and Cloud. You secretly hate Midgar but you always refused to go home until you were part of the SOLDIER programme because you promised some girl that's what you'd do. You went against that to help me when I needed volunteers for a mission to the Nibelheim reactor. You fought Sephiroth and you beat him. Do you hear me, Cloud? You beat Sephiroth after he turned vampire. If you could do that, you can do anything. So fight her, Cloud. Fight Jenova and whatever she's doing to you. You fought the Silver General, so you can beat some crummy proto-vamp who should've died thousands of years ago. You. Can. Beat. Her. C'mon, buddy. C'mon, Cloud, do it for me. Come on! Fight her!" His voice rasped on the last few words, becoming more of a roar.

Cloud kicked and struggled throughout the tirade. At the end, however, he went suddenly still, every muscle taut like he had been tasered. His eyes widened, pupils dilating from slits into regular circles. He blinked, turning his head awkwardly to see behind him.

"Z-Zack?" He spoke with a vague lisp due to his lengthened fangs. "Is that you?"

Zack knew his grin wasn't pretty with so many teeth. "Hi, buddy. Nice to have you back with us."

Cloud blinked rapidly. "I … I heard you …" His eyes widened again. "But I can still hear them. They're still calling me." Fear filled his voice. "Zack, what's going on?"

"Shh, don't worry," Zack reassured him, not removing his own weight yet. Cloud seemed in no hurry to get up anymore and Zack wasn't sure what would happen if he allowed him to get loose.

"Why is there a woman's voice inside my head, Zack?" Cloud sounded panicked. "I can hear him too. Sephiroth. But … he's dead. I know he's dead. I was there when he died. Why is he in my head? Zack, am I … am I going mad? I've been having so many awful dreams lately, about biting you and trying to … to jump off the … and … oh god, they weren't dreams …"

"Don't panic," Zack said hastily. "I'm fine, see? Well, apart from the fur and teeth." Something swished behind him. "And tail, but that's a bonus. You'll always know I'm glad to see you when I'm wagging this thing. It has a life of its own."

Cloud continued to blink up at him and tremble. Zack could feel the muscle tremors through his paws. "Zack, what's happening to me? They keep telling me to come to them, and want to, but I don't want to at the same time. My head feels like it's about to explode if I don't go. How do I make it stop?"

"I don't know, buddy, but whatever it is, I'll fix it."

"It's because I'm a vampire," Cloud said with grim certainty. "You can't fix vampirism, Zack. It's been proven. There's no cure once you've been bitten."

Zack resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He might break his own jaws if he did. Shinra scientists had claimed there was no cure, but apparently they hadn't been as truthful as they should have been about a lot of things. Doubts clawed at him, but none of them actually turned into words he could use.

_**Puppy,**_ Alpha interrupted, _**your mate. She heals what science cannot.**_

Aerith? She had healed him of his wounds more than once, but … vampirism? No. human magic wasn't unheard of – Cissnei and the Turks were proof of that – but humans weren't built for magic. Humans who could use it were genetic anomalies. No way could Aerith do something like –

_**Not human,**_said Alpha. _**Not fully.**_

"What?" Zack said out loud before he could stop himself.

_**Elf,**_ said Alpha. _**Last elf in the world. Jenova-calamity-monster killed others.**_

"But she was stuck in Nibelheim since they dug her up. How did she –?"

_**Puppets. Devotees. Scientists who do her bidding make Shinra think some people carriers of vampire virus. Shinra hunt down. Kill all. Elves threat to her. Elves have own magic. Jenova-calamity-monster fears it. Elf magic help stop her before. She trying to wipe it out. Powerful magic, once. Nearly gone now, but not Puppy's mate. She has old magic. She heals.**_

Aerith was an elf? Zack couldn't believe it. Elves were just myths and legends. And yet … everyone had thought vampires were legends until Jenova. He had thought spirit animals were myths before he was possessed by one. There were a lot of things that weren't supposed to exist but, apparently, did.

"Zack?" Cloud's voice was strained, as if he was fighting a tremendous inner battle. "I … I c-can't … they're so loud … I want t-to …" He was starting to struggle again, his eyes become glassy and his pupils thinning to slits. They fluctuated, thinning and rounding as he fought to maintain lucidity.

"Aerith!" Zack blurted before he could think better of it. He had to give Cloud a reason to fight and win. The prospect of fighting Jenova and Sephiroth's call, only to live a life of constant self-loathing and bloodlust would make anyone want to give up and jump off a cliff. Or, worse, go back to that senseless stupor where he didn't have to think or feel anything anymore. "You remember her, buddy?"

"Your g-girlfriend?" Cloud asked uncomprehendingly.

"Yup. She can heal you. She can put you back to the way you were, before you got bitten."

"She can?" The hope in Cloud's tone was heart-breaking. If Alpha was wrong …

Zack refused to think about it. Instead, he pasted on a smile and said, "Uh-huh. So you gotta fight the voices, okay? You gotta fight them so we can get you back to Midgar and she can heal you. I'm done carrying your sorry ass around. You can carry yourself the rest of the way."

"S-So … loud …" Cloud murmured. "I have to … have to go to them …"

"No, you don't!" Zack shook him, sending up a flurry of powdery snow. "You ignore them. You fight them. You block them out. You do _not_ listen to them and you do _not_ do what they say, okay? You listen to me instead. Okay, Cloud?"

Cloud blinked glassily.

"Cloud!" Zack yelled. "Stay with me, damn it! I need you!"

Slowly, Cloud nodded. "Okay. I'll try."

"Nu-uh. Tell me you'll do it."

"But I –"

"Tell me!"

"Okay," Cloud replied, exhausted. "I'll do it."

"Atta boy." Inwardly, Zack hoped he hadn't just pinned both their futures on a lie. He had wondered what their next move would be, other than survival. Now they had a destination and a goal: the most stupid, impractical, gonna-getcha-killed-messily-and-painfully goal they could have picked.

They were going to walk into the heart of Midgar, facing all the people who wanted to kill, recapture and put them back in those stinking labs, and ask the last living elf to also risk revealing herself to Shinra in the possibly futile attempt to heal a vampire and make him human again. And Zack also had to apologise for being very late for his date with Aerith.

In comparison, saving the world seemed like a piece of cake.

* * *

><p>"<em>Zack?"<em>

"_Hmm?" He was too comfortable for conversation. Things had been hectic lately and he had few opportunities to kick back and just relax. "What is it?"_

"_Look at me for a second, will you?"_

_He opened his eyes. Aerith's head was pillowed on his chest, but she had twisted around to look up at him. Her bare feet shifted against his leg. She had tiny feet. She had tried on his boots for a joke once and fallen over after two steps._

"_I'm looking," he said. "What is it?"_

"_Have you been scheduled for a mission soon?"_

_He didn't like talking about work with her. When he was with her, he wanted to forget about missions, vampires, and the rest of the Shinra shebang. Politics were everywhere these days and he was no good at that kind of thing. If it weren't for helping Cloud train up for the SOLDIER exam and spending time with Aerith, his life would be a nonstop round of field work, lab tests and politics. Talking about work when he was below the Plate felt wrong._

"_Zack?"_

"_Yeah," he replied. "But just a little one. Inspecting a reactor and checking up on the team there. President Shinra is planning to holiday in the frozen north, he says, so he wants us to ensure his mansion is vamp-free. It's not a biggie. There haven't been any confirmed reports of virus activity in the area, so I should be there and back within a week." He grinned. "Why? Will you miss me?"_

_She bit her lip. "Of course, but …"_

"_What's the matter?" Zack frowned. Aerith wasn't quite as innocent as he had thought when he first met her. She was clued into the black market down here; it was how she used to get hold of all her seeds and saplings, before she met him. It hadn't taken long for him to realise he couldn't impress her with regular gifts like jewellery or fancy dinners and started bringing her plants instead. People down here closed ranks against people from above; they protected each other. Aerith in particular, ad their 'Flower Girl', merited protection from some pretty shady characters. Her connections ran deeper than he had ever asked. He wondered now whether they had brought her news that hadn't come his way. "Aerith? You never ask about my work. What's happened?"_

"_You will be careful out there, won't you?"_

_Her question made him pause. "What kind of question is that?"_

"_Just answer it."_

"_I'm just saying, it sounds like a loaded question. Did you have one of your dreams again?" She sometimes dreamt of things happening far away, like the clairvoyants he had heard about. She said she wasn't one, but there was no denying that Aerith could do things regular people couldn't._

_Magic-users were part myth, part urban legend, and part truth, given what Cissnei had accidentally-on-purpose let slip about essential criteria for being a Turk. Coupled with her healing ability, even if Aerith was a clairvoyant only in her sleep she was a prime recruitment candidate. If news of what she could do reached Shinra, the Turks would approach her. No wonder her friends below the Plate looked at him with such suspicion. Zack couldn't imagine Aerith as a Turk, so he kept her secrets too._

"_I … had a dream," Aerith admitted._

"_What about?"_

"_Red eyes." Her fingers bunched into a fist around a handful of his shirt. "Snow. Broken glass. Shiny metal."_

"_Sounds like your dreams are as clear as ever."_

_She sat up. Deprived of her warmth, Zack also levered himself onto his elbows. Around him, the heads of flowers bobbed and leaves brushed his forearms. He didn't know their names, but Aerith could list off every plant in the church without pausing for breath. She faced away from him now, her shoulders hunched._

_What was going on? "Talk to me, Aerith."_

"_What's the name of the place you're going to?"_

"_Nibelheim. Have you ever been there?"_

"_No."_

_He knew she hadn't been born in the slums, but she was cagey about her life before that. It had taken months for Zack to find out she and Elmyra Gainsborough weren't blood related, and that though Aerith had come to live with her when she was four, the adoption papers hadn't been drawn up until she was eleven. Aerith had confessed these things as if they were a big secret, though Zack couldn't think why Then again, he had secrets about his past he hadn't yet shared with her. He wasn't in a position to judge. _

"_Have you heard something about Nibelheim from your, uh, 'friends'?" he asked._

"_No."_

"_Then why are you acting so weird?"_

"_I'm a weird person."_

"_Aerith." He sat up and turned her to face him. He was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "Something's wrong, and I don't think it's just a bad dream that's got you so upset. Is your mom okay?"_

"_She's fine." _

"_Are **you** okay?"_

_Aerith dragged a wrist across her face. She couldn't afford make-up, so there were no mascara smears. Thinking it was the kind of thing girls liked, Zack once tried to give her a box of expensive cosmetics, but she had given them to her mom instead. He had been offended until she explained she didn't want to feel like she wasn't good enough the way she was. His reaction to her action was something of a test: would he accept her as she came, or would he try to change her to be more like the pretty girls above the Plate? He kind of understood, just like he kind of understood why she was uncomfortable eating at above-Plate restaurants, or why shopping wasn't the big deal for her that it was for other girls he had dated. She was more comfortable getting dirt under her fingernails or hitching her skirts to fix the hole in her neighbour's roof than trying on strappy shoes or eating oysters. He wanted to be accepted for the person he was too, not just as a trophy SOLDIER, or used for his stipend. Considering how many people had tried to talk her out of dating him, there was no way him being SOLDIER would ever be something Aerith could boast about. SOLDIERs represented everything slum-dwellers hated about Shinra. In or out of uniform, to them Zack would always be an unwelcome outsider trying to steal away their Flower Girl._

"_I'm fine," she replied. "It's you I'm worried about."_

"_Me?" Zack was nonplussed. "I just came through my last medical with flying colours."_

"_I know, I just …" Hesitating a moment, she blurted, "I worry about something bad happening to you, okay? I know it's stupid because you can take care of yourself, and you're a First Class so you've clearly already proven how capable you are, but I do. Worry, I mean. A lot. About you. Because you mean a lot to me."_

_Zack smiled. How could he not? "Nothing bad is going to happen to me."_

"_You say that now." She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes again. "These aren't tears, by the way. I just got some soil in my eye."_

"_Both of them?"_

"_Yes_, _both of them. We're lying in a flowerbed, Zack."_

"_I noticed." On impulse he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back down with him. She squeaked, but he didn't let go. "You're cute when you get all googly-eyed."_

"_Excuse me? I am **not** googly-eyed!"_

"_Uh-huh. It's soil. I heard you."_

"_Jerk."_

_He laughed. "I love you too."_

_She stopped struggling and froze in his arms._

"_Aerith?"_

"_You shouldn't say that."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because you shouldn't."_

"_I got that part. Why shouldn't I?"_

"_If I explain, you'll just think I'm being a girl."_

"_Aerith, you **are** a girl." He kissed the top of her head. She smelled of compost, those little flowers she always wore and cheap shampoo. Somehow it worked on her without being gross. "It's one of the things I like about you."_

"_There's a difference between being a girl and being a **girl**," she insisted._

"_Explain it to me."_

"_Being a girl means I just have the right, um, body parts."_

"_And very lovely they are, too."_

"_Shut up!" She smacked his stomach, since he was holding her too close for her to reach anywhere else. "Being a **girl** means being corny and mushy and putting too much emphasis on little things."_

"_Like saying 'I love you'."_

"_Yes. Like saying I love you."_

"_So why shouldn't I say it? Don't worry about being a girl, just explain it to me. Why shouldn't I say 'I love you'?"_

_She sighed. Her breath tickled his inner arm. "You shouldn't say it unless you mean it. Properly. It's not just a throwaway phrase. It should mean something more than when you say 'I love these shoes' or 'I love my sword' or 'I love eating chill dogs'."_

"_You mean chilli dogs **aren't** romantic?"_

"_Shut up! You're making fun of me. See what I mean about being a total girl?" _

_Zack smiled. "But Aerith," he said softly, "I do mean it. Properly," he added. _

_She tried to lift her head. He relaxed his hold enough for her to do so, bracing her arms with hands flat on his chest. "What?"_

"_I love you."_

_She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then abruptly pulled it back. He was too focussed on her eyes to notice. She was always weird about her ears, as if the universe would put on the brakes and come to a screeching halt if she showed them. "Are you just saying that to make me feel less stupid?"_

"_Nope."_

"_Seriously?"_

"_Have I ever lied to you?"_

"_You told me you knew a lot about plants and then handed me poison ivy while claiming it was honeysuckle."_

"_I said I was sorry! My SOLDIER healing stopped me from being affected so I didn't know that would happen to you!"_

_She grinned. "I know; you were just lying to impress me. I'm kidding." Her expression faded. "I … love you too." She ducked her head. "Wow, it feels weird to say that sincerely."_

"_You're not being sincere?"_

_She scrambled up his body so her lips reached his. "Does that feel insincere?"_

"_I don't know." He pulled her in for another, deeper kiss. When they parted he pantomimed thinking, and then shook his head. "Still not sure."_

"_Zack!" she laughed._

"_I'm afraid we'll have to keep trying until I'm completely sure of your sincerity. It's the scientific way of doing things."_

_She brushed hair from his eyes, looking down at him with a curious expression. "Well if it's for the betterment of science."_

"_And because it's fun."_

"_I guess I can live with that." She kissed him, long and lingering, then nestled her face in his neck. "I love you, Zack. Please don't do anything reckless while you're away. I couldn't stand it if you weren't around anymore. I … I still have so much I want to share with you."_

"_With you to come back to, I'll be taking extra care. Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued …<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>.<em>


	19. Barrett and Bruin

.

* * *

><p><strong>19. Barrett and Bruin <strong>

* * *

><p>Barrett hefted his duffel and gestured for Marlene to climb into his other arm. She pulled a face but did so, scrambling up to his shoulder with more dexterity than an average three year old. She kept her place better as he walked, too. People usually stared when they first saw them, but given Barrett's thousand-yard stare and line-backer build, they didn't stare long.<p>

"What's this place?" Marlene asked, gripping the back of his neck as he alighted from the train.

"Farfig."

"Aren't we going to Midgar?"

"We gotta change trains. We'll head for Midgar in the morning."

She pulled a face, but it cleared when she spotted one of the food-carts set up by the tiny station. "Can I have one?"

Barrett followed the line of her finger to a woman selling toffee apples. There wouldn't be much fruit that wasn't imported in Midgar. He didn't really want to go there, but that was where the work was so he had opted to swallow his pride and take Marlene there to start a new life. It helped to think that Midgar was famous for being the most fortified place in the world against vampires. Now that Marlene was his responsibility, he owed it to both her and her parents to do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if that meant joining Shinra and doing double shifts to afford her five portions of fruit and veg a day and a house to cook them in.

"Sure, sweetheart."

He advanced on the woman and bought two toffee apples. Marlene chomped happily on hers, while his looked faintly ridiculous in his massive hand. He stared at it, turning it so he could look at the other side of his hand. Not so long ago it had been a charred, blistered mess. Now it was as good as it had ever been. He had Bruin to thank for that.

Just thinking about Bruin made the spirit shift sleepily in Barrett's mind. Bruin typically only woke fully when it was time to eat or fight, which he seemed to enjoy with equal gusto. Barrett liked eating, but if he could go the rest of his life without fighting he would be happy. Becoming a Shinra infantryman was counter to that, but again, it had to be done if Marlene was to have the kind of life she deserved. Vampires had already killed her parents and his wife, and the battle to defeat them had burned Corel to the ground, leaving her and himself homeless and with only each other to count on. Having Bruin gave Barrett an edge in combat. His healed hand and all those dead vampires in Corel proved that. Why shouldn't he make accepting the spirit into himself work to his advantage further now the mines were closed?

They found a cheap motel to stay the night. Marlene bounced on the bed until he told her to go wash and clean her teeth. Dutifully she did so, while he laid out pyjamas he had bought along the way. She marched from the washbasin to the bed with serious little steps and treated getting ready for bed like it was the most important task in the world. She was a pretty serious little kid; probably acted too old for her years, but considering what she had lived through Barrett knew she could have been a lot worse.

When the vamps attacked, Eleanor had doused her daughter with holy water and locked her in the reinforced basement, reasoning that newly infected people would mindlessly go for the easier target than try to get through a steel door. She hadn't expected the newly infected to be her own husband. Barrett had found her when the town was already in flames, dying from a bite wound to her femoral artery. She was still in better shape than his own Myrna had been. After realising he hadn't been turned too, Eleanor had told him where Marlene and the basement key were and died in his arms. Barrett had all but destroyed his hand on the hot metal of the door handle. Thankfully Marlene had already passed out from a combination of heat and airlessness and so hadn't heard her mother's screams when Dyne came home and attacked her.

Dyne. Thinking of his best friend made Barrett fist his new hand involuntarily. He had chased Dyne and the other vampires without thought or reason, finally catching up to them on the cliffs outside town. He hadn't thought about Marlene, unconscious under a bush where he had left her. He could only think of Myrna, Eleanor and all the other townsfolk who had been murdered. Grief and pain from his burns had made him crazy. Did he think he could defeat a pack of newly turned vamps with the tree branch he had picked up to use as a stake? He didn't know. He hadn't cared about anything except finding and killing them.

Except that it hadn't worked that away. Seeing a monster with Dyne's face had thrown him. The hesitation had cost him dearly. If it hadn't been for Bruin's offer, made when Dyne's fangs were inches from his neck, he would be dead now, and Marlene too. It wouldn't have been long before they found her. Instead, Barrett had ripped into them with the abandon of a raging beast and hurled their bodies off the cliff. When he came back to himself he had finally crashed and wept, but known Dyne would have thanked him. The old Dyne, anyway.

When they started this journey he'd had no clue how to look after a child. He had only a little more idea now, but he and Marlene had muddled along in a way they were both comfortable with and would continue to muddle along. The alternative made them grateful for what they had.

"Read me a story?" Marlene asked solemnly.

They had a grand total of three books that fitted into his duffel. They were limited to what fitted and what he could carry, which was actually a lot, since Bruin's strength was Barrett's and Bruin could tear open a tank if he felt so inclined. Books, however, took a backseat to two changes of clothes each, money, identification, plus hygiene paraphernalia, water canteens, cooking and camping equipment for when they had to camp outside. The journey from Corel to Midgar had been neither straight nor easy, but they were at the penultimate stop now.

"Which story?" Barrett asked.

Marlene gave her choice great thought. "Betsy Bunnie and the Twelve Little Bunnikins."

He tried not to wince. "Not Picky Pig? Or Lady Lovely Loves Licking Lollies?" While stories that warned against the perils of nose-picking or licking frozen flagpoles weren't his bag, they were still better than the syrupy tale of how Betsy Bunnie cooked twelve different suppers for her twelve spoilt brats.

Marlene shook her head. "I want Betsy Bunnie."

Barrett sighed. "All right, sugar-nip." He fetched the book and cracked it open on one knee. "Betsy Bunnie was a very busy bunnie-rabbit. She had twelve little bunnikins to care for: Bernadette, Bernice, Brenda, Bitty, Buckley, Booboo, Bobbi, Brittney, Buffy, Bulma, Becky and the little bunnikin, Baby. One day, Baby set down her knife and fork and said: "I don't want to eat carrots today, Momma. We've had carrots that are boiled, carrots that are roasted, carrots that are baked, carrots that are raw and every other type of carrot you can make. I want something else!" So Betsy Bunnie folded her arms and said …"

By the time Bernadette, the oldest bunnikin, got her turn to demand a food other than carrots, Marlene had fallen asleep. Barrett gamely finished the story in case she could hear, tucked her in and hesitated before kissing her forehead. She fidgeted, but smiled and snuggled down like warm blankets were the best defence against all the evils the world had to offer.

Barrett watched her, marvelling that a person could care so much about a child that wasn't his own. He would die for this little girl. He considered scenarios in his head in which someone, man or vamp, threatened her. Yep, he would kill for her too. He and Myrna had never been able to conceive, so they had both doted on their goddaughter from the moment she was born. Now Marlene was all he had left of his wife, his best friend, or anything from his old life.

He was half changed into his own sleepwear when someone knocked the door. Frowning, he glanced at Marlene, but the noise hadn't woken her. He crossed the small room in a couple of strides and looked out the peephole. A woman stood on the other side. He didn't recognise her and thought about ignoring her, but she knocked again, louder this time, and Marlene stirred.

Barrett put the door on its chain and opened it as far as it would go. "Yeah? Whaddya want?"

The woman looked up at him. Most people looked up at Barrett. She had long brown hair and a smoking hot body poured into a mini skirt and tight white top. Her body language was aggressive, but her outfit screamed sex appeal. Barrett had been approached by women in similar dress a couple of town ago and tried to shut the door.

"Listen, sister, I ain't buying what you're selling."

She stuck her foot in the way. "I'm not selling anything."

He snorted. "Yeah, you just knock on the motel doors of men you don't know for kicks. Try next door. He was on his own and looked pretty desperate." He tried to shove her foot back with his own, but it was like trying to move a granite statue. "Buzz off. You ain't my type."

"Actually, I'm exactly your type." For a moment her brown eyes flashed red-gold and her pupils thinned to slits. Barrett had time to register the change before it was gone.

It didn't mean much to him, but Bruin roused in the back of his mind. The spirit usually took a long time to wake, but this time he sat up so fast Barrett reeled with inward vertigo. Barrett felt him lumber forward, seeing the girl through his eyes. He could see what was going on in the world without taking over Barrett's form, but human sight gave him sharpness of detail when he didn't have his own physical form. It was a lazy way of operating, but Bruin was lazy whenever he could be.

"Can I come in?" the young woman asked.

_**Let her in**_**, **Bruin instructed.

"Why?" Barrett asked.

"Because I have an offer you don't want to refuse," she said.

_**She's like us**_, Bruin informed him.

Barrett looked at the girl again. She had a spirit inside her too? That would account for the eyes. Shit, did that happen with him and Bruin? Marlene had never said anything, but that didn't mean –

"This isn't a conversation for out in the hallway," the young woman said.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Barrett unhooked the chain, figuring he could take care of anything she tried now Bruin was awake. "What's your name?"

"Tifa," she said as she stepped inside. She dropped her volume when she saw Marlene. "Tifa Lockheart."

"Nice name."

She shrugged. "You're Barrett."

"How'd you know that?"

She gestured to the bed. "I heard her call you that when you were buying toffee apples."

"You been watching us, girly?"

"Only until I could be sure of what you are."

"And now you're sure?"

She nodded. "Well, not me, but _she_ can tell."

Barrett eyed her speculatively. "Your spirit?"

She nodded. "They can sense each other and recognise each other when they get close. She wanted to be sure who yours was. Apparently she, ah, has fallen out with a lot of them." She looked around, as if checking who could overhear, before leaning forward to whisper even more softly, "I can believe it. She's not the easiest personality to get along with." She pulled back with a wince, eyes focussing vaguely above Barrett's head. "Yes, I know you heard that. You hear everything I do."

_**Girl's right,**_ said Bruin. _**She's a bitch.**_

Barrett turned his head to one side, taking his eyes off the young woman – Tifa – so she wouldn't think he was talking to her. Usually when he did that he worried someone would think he was nutty as squirrel shit. It was kind of refreshing not to have to worry about it. "Who is?"

Bruin was prevented from answering, however, when Tifa clutched the side of her head and her knees buckled. Barrett caught her reflexively, but she struggled out of his grip and rounded on an invisible someone behind her.

"You do that again and we're going back to the mountains, you hear me? No, I won't make out like you're all sweetness and light. Why? Because you're not! You complain all the time and … what? I'll get to it, okay? Because it's not the kind of thing you just say off the cuff the first time you meet someone. No, not even if they had a spirit of their own!"

"Ask me what?" Barrett made a palm-down gesture. "And keep the noise down, huh?"

"Sorry." Cheeks flushed, Tifa turned back to him. "When I accepted her offer, I never imagined she'd be so difficult to live with."

Barrett nodded. "What made you do it?"

She met his eyes. "I suspect the same thing that made you agree to house your spirit: vengeance, grief, loneliness."

"Not so much the last one, but yeah to the first two."

Tifa dropped her gaze, but not like she was talking to someone he couldn't see. "Vampires … _a _vampire killed my father. It got into my village. We had a mako reactor there, so we should've been secure. We weren't. The whole place was burned to the ground. Survivors were … there were only a few. Shinra took them, including two of their own. My best friend was one of them. He …" She stopped. "If it hadn't been for him and the man with him, the vampire would have come back and either killed or turned me. I tried to stop it after it killed my dad." She tugged at the neck of her top. For a moment Barrett thought she was offering something he wasn't interested in, but she was just showing him a livid scar that ran from her left collar bone, across her chest to the top of her right breast. It had been made with some sort of blade and healed without medical treatment, leaving an ugly reminder of what had happened to her. "I should be dead now. I'm not because of those two men."

Barrett shook his head. "Sorry, sweet-cheeks, but I ain't interested in no rescue scheme."

"I don't know where they are. It's most likely they're –" She cut herself off. After a moment she took a shuddering breath. Barrett got the feeling she had practised this speech a lot before confronting him, or someone like him. Actually saying it, however, was a different matter. He knew that feeling. He hadn't talked about Myrna, Eleanor or Dyne since it happened. If he ever had to tell a stranger about his losses, he would find it hard too. "It was over four years ago. I doubt they're alive now. What I'm asking, Mr. Barrett, is your help in stopping the past of Shinra responsible for the vampires."

Barrett blinked. "Come again? Sorry, sweet-cheeks, but you got your wires crossed or something. Shinra's pretty much the only thing _stopping_ vamps from eating us all alive."

There had been others who tried to do the same job, but they were inevitably ill-equipped, ill-informed or so overzealous they died their first time facing a real vamp. Shinra was the only power in the world with enough money and influence to make a real dent in the vampire population. Coupled with their monopoly of mako and electricity, plus however many other projects they had going that didn't get as much media attention, and the company had a stranglehold on the entire world's economy.

Tifa shook her head. "She told me. It didn't take me as long to accept it as she thought it would, but after what I saw and heard at the Nibelheim reactor …"

Barrett's eyes widened. "You were there when the vamps killed General Sephiroth."

She gave a harsh laugh, and then clamped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry."

Marlene hadn't woken. "Don't worry about it. What's so funny?"

"General Sephiroth _was_ the vampire that torched my village."

"No way!"

"His sword gave me this scar." She yanked at her neckline again. "Shinra never publicised it. He was their top weapon against the vampires. Can you imagine the fallout if it emerged that he was turned and then killed an entire village of people? They hushed it all up and took away his second in command and my friend to do god knows what to them afterwards."

Barrett wondered if he had let a crazy person into his motel room.

_**No,**_ said Bruin. _**Truthful.**_ He never said much, but what he did say, he meant. Barrett felt the spirit flex his claws in response to something and growl. _**Ask her about Jenova.**_

"What's Jenova?" Barrett asked.

Tifa's expression darkened. "She's the original vampire. Think of her like Patient Zero in a pandemic. All the others come from her. Shinra has her body. Sephiroth took part of it, apparently, but they've had her body for years. They could use it to destroy all the vampires, but instead they set themselves up as the saviours of the world and raked in all the money they could without actually stopping the virus from spreading."

"Sound like something a conspiracy nut would say."

"Ask your spirit. They know. They fought Jenova the first time around, when she first came to this planet. It happened a long time ago – long before any of our ancestors would have written anything down. They thought they'd put a stop to her for good, but Shinra found her and resurrected her evil. I don't know if that was what they intended to do, but it's what happened. Now those spirits who are left are trying to defeat her once and for all. We have technology and things now that they didn't have back then, so maybe now we can finish what they started. Destroy Jenova and all the vampires will die too."

Barrett couldn't believe it. The answer to the vampire infestation couldn't be nearly as simple as that. Shinra couldn't have been sitting on the ultimate solution all this time and not taken it. They couldn't! Nobody was so motivated by profit they would do something like that. Nobody was that cruel.

Right?

"I'm not asking you to believe me. Not straight away," Tifa said quietly. "I just wanted to put the ideas to you because of who and what you are. I wasn't sure if your spirit had explained things to you yet; or if you'd accepted what it had to say. I don't know your history or anything about you except that, in this much, you're like me." She drew herself up to her full height – which still made her look like a bug next to Barrett's gigantic boot. He wondered what kind of spirit she had inside her. "I'll be on the train into Midgar tomorrow. Carriage E, Seat 34. Let me know your answer then."

"Answer?" Barrett repeated. "What answer? You ain't even asked me a question."

"I'm asking you to help me save the world," she replied. Unlike the ones that came before it, that line slid out smooth as a knife in hot butter. "And all the people in it we still care about."

"Who're you fighting for if your family and friends are dead?" The question was a harsh one, but Barrett was acutely aware of the tiny body in the bed.

"My tutor took care of me after Nibelheim. We parted ways when I told him about my plan. He's still alive." She looked at the door, as if she was eager to go through it now she had said her piece. "Somewhere. He's a good man, but he's not an insurrectionist."

"Is that what you are?"

"I'm trying to be a good person. Ask the right people and they'll call me everything from a terrorist to a saviour, but that's not what I'm trying to be. I just want to be a good person and make up for not being able to save my loved ones before. I was too weak then. I'm not now. Maybe this won't make it right, but if it'll do some good and potentially save a lot of people, then I'm going to try it, no matter how many enemies it gets me. I'll understand if you don't want to get involved, but I … I …"

"You okay?" Barrett frowned and leaned down to see into her suddenly slack face. "Girly?"

Her eyes snapped into focus. The irises blazed like an open fire around catlike pupils. When she spoke, it was in a harsh voice, like someone who smoked sixty a day and followed it up with lots of hard liqueur. "Human."

Barrett backed off. "Aw, hell no."

Tifa smiled. It was the most disturbing expression Barrett had ever seen on a person. Her beauty only made it more alarming. "Scared, human? You should be."

Bruin growled but made no move to take over. Barrett went for his duffel, sliding the stake he had bought from its sheath, but she just laughed.

"That'll kill the girl, but not me. I'm not a damn vampire."

"What the hell are you?"

"Someone who knows fire." Her eyes crawled with flames. Her upper cheeks reflected the glow, casting the rest of her features in shifting shadows. "Far better than you do, apparently."

"What?"

_**Not enemy**_, said Bruin. _**Listen.**_

"Only one vampire ever set a fire, and he was special. Your 'Silver General' isn't like the others. Didn't you ever wonder about the conflagration that took your precious town and turned it into delicious ash? Or was that too much trouble for your puny brain to labour over?"

Barrett's brows drew together. "What're you saying?"

"Think about it, idiot." Tifa took a step forward. Nothing about her body language was as it had been. She moved with a fluid economy of movement that reminded him of cats and other predators. "Shinra never came to fight the vampires in your area, did they? You never saw one of their number even after the attack. But one of my people was drawn by the flames, so I know through their eyes what happened. You had a mako reactor, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"A new one."

"Yeah."

"People weren't happy about it. It was poisoning the ground, killing all your crops and making your coal mine obsolete. There was vandalism. Sabotage. Nobody ever came forward, but you knew about it."

Barrett knew who had done it, too. Dyne had led the most vocal resistance against the reactor and Barrett had suspected his friend of taking it further, but they had never spoken of it.

"Shinra knew, too. They sent men and one of Jenova's creatures. What was one town to them, compared with a reactor in jeopardy? They put the cat amongst your chickens to justify setting the henhouse ablaze."

Shinra had … brought the vampires to Corel? And then razed the town to cinders? Barrett couldn't believe it. It was too horrible.

Bruin paced. He was agitated.

"Bruin, is this true?"

_**Think so. She's a bitch, but not a liar.**_

"Of course it's true," Tifa retorted in that raspy voice. "What would I have to gain by lying about that? There are others like you; other avatars who would jump at the chance to join our mission. You're not the only one with brute strength at your disposal."

Bruin growled. _**Bitch.**_

Tifa grinned. "I'll bet your spirit just called me something offensive."

"Sorta."

She laughed like a collapsing bonfire. "Like I haven't heard it all before. People rarely like my kind, human. We aren't fond of humans, either. You creatures are weak and pathetic, but in this case, you're useful. Think about what the girl has said and what I've told you. Make your decision: do you want to avenge your people or keep your spirit from joining the fight? He might find someone else to work with if you aren't up to the task."

_**Won't,**_ Bruin assured him. _**Chose you. Happy with you. Happy with your cub.**_

"Ask him why he needed you. I'll bet you never have."

Barrett had asked. He just hadn't pushed when Bruin was vague with his answers. Apparently Bruin hadn't thought him ready to accept the truth. It sure wasn't a small task to be faced with. This Tifa girl's spirit, however, had no such qualms about niceties.

She gave another disturbing smile before turning away and opening the door. She slammed it back with a flick of her wrist, not caring about the noise or the cracked plaster where the handle hit. Her strength was impressive. Abruptly she shuddered and grasped the doorjamb for support. When she looked at Barrett her eyes were back to soft brown and her expression was appalled.

"I'm so sorry! She's –"

"Don't worry about it." Barrett waved her off, mind reeling. "Really."

She bit her lip. "For what she said, I truly am sorry."

"I said don't worry about it." Barrett's voice went up a notch.

"Barrett?" Marlene was sitting up in bed, covers clutched to her and eyes wide as new moons. She looked terrified.

He immediately went to her side. "Nuthin' to worry about, sugar-nip."

"Who's that lady?"

Tifa staggered out of the door. Apparently her spirit pulling that stunt had sapped her energy. "I'll go. Will you, uh, think about my proposal?" She had her eyes on Marlene as she asked.

Barrett glanced down at her, hands going protectively around her tiny shoulders. "I'll think about everything that was said tonight, but I ain't promising nuthin'."

She nodded, as if that was what she expected him to say, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

><p><em>Hojo looked over the notes. The patient had been one of his subordinates, present when Jenova was transported from the North Crater. His vitals had faded faster than cheap paint in sunlight. He couldn't take in solid food and had been put on an IV for nutrition, but it had done little good. His body kept rejecting everything until he died back in Midgar.<em>

_Could his death really have been from a tiny nick on his finger? The man hadn't even thought it important enough to report when it happened. The interview with him in his hospital bed read that he had accidentally pierced his protective glove on her fang, but had washed the cut thoroughly and disinfected it. He was a careful fellow, not given to overreaction. The report concluded the cut was not the cause of his death, instead deciding a history of blood disorders in his family was the blame. _

_Hojo suspected otherwise. He was glad he had asked for the Nibelheim lab instead of bringing Jenova back to Midgar. He had more freedom here, away from the prying eyes of his superiors and 'cohorts'. As if Hollander or Faremis could possibly equal his genius with their own petty projects?_

_He set down the notes and went to the containment tube. Jenova's hair billowed around her. Hojo wasn't one for poetry or flights of fancy, but how could anyone **not** recognise her beauty as something more than mere mortals could ever hope to achieve? Those fools –_

"_Sir?"_

_He turned. "Crescent." _

_His aide crossed the room in quick, efficient steps. "The new security officer has arrived."_

_Hojo scowled. 'Security officer'? Spy, more like. Shinra wanted him back in Midgar, working on his mako research. They didn't understand the importance of his work here! This was the last thing he wanted to deal with._

"_His name is Grimoire Valentine."_

"_Valentine," Hojo repeated, as if he actually cared. He cast one last glance at Jenova and followed Crescent from the room and entered the elevator for the upper levels. "Let's get this over with. We have work to do. You can show him around the facility in my stead, then check on the latest cell cultures. They should be ready for review."_

"_Yes, sir."_

_Crescent was the best aide he had been given on this project. No doubt Faremis and Hollander had creamed off everybody else with a brain for their own projects, but they had missed her. She was attractive, if tall for a woman and given to wearing impractical high heels. They had probably seen her shapely figure and mass of untameable auburn hair and assumed she was the airhead she appeared. Her attractiveness, however, concealed a sharp mind and a determined dedication to science that Hojo could appreciate._

"_The last cultures showed increased levels of activity, sir," she said as they disembarked from the elevator. _

"_What was the catalyst for that batch?"_

"_Co-enzyme Q-10."_

_He considered this, but they were nearing his office, so he was prevented from telling her his thoughts as he went through the rigmarole of meeting the latest obstacle in his work. _

"_Professor Hojo?" Valentine stuck out a hand to shake._

_Hojo surveyed the hand before actually touching it: square-fingered, rough-palmed, the hand of someone used to doing dirty work. Yes, no doubt this man was a spy sent to watch him. Or was it sabotage now? The thought curdled in the back of his brain, making his teeth grit as he did his best to play nice. _

"_You must be Grimoire Valentine. Miss Crescent told me of your presence."_

_Valentine didn't seem impressed with the limp handshake. He didn't go so far as to wipe his hand on his coat, but it was close. "She was quite complimentary of you too, Professor."_

_Hojo caught her looking embarrassed from the corner of his eye. "She was?"_

"_Well, of your work here. Apparently you're breaking all sorts of bounds in the name of science. I'm something of a scientist myself, actually. Did a degree in biochemistry and was halfway through my Masters when I joined Shinra instead."_

"_Oh?" What was this, some TV show where you shared your life story with a bored audience? _

"_Mm. Had to give it up and bring in an actual wage when my boy was born." Valentine laughed. "Hard to be a professional student when you're mother and father both."_

"_How heart-breaking." Hojo wondered whether sarcasm could be used as a verb. _

_Valentine was apparently impervious to it as both verb and noun. He shrugged. "Had to be done. Needs, musts, wants, eh? But I'm sure you know all about that, right Professor?"_

_Hojo's head snapped up. What was that supposed to mean? He tried to read the blank look in Valentine's eyes and failed. "Indeed," he said non-committally. "I do apologise for our time together being so short, but you'll have to excuse me, Mister Valentine. I have work that really does demand my attention – time sensitive, critical work, I'm sure you understand. Miss Crescent will show you around. She's more than capable of explaining how things work around here."_

"_Of course, Professor." He hurried forward to take over babysitting duty. _

_As Hojo sped from his office, Grimoire watched him with surprise. "Is he always so antsy?"_

"_The Professor is a genius," Lucrecia said defensively. _

"_I don't doubt it. You don't get to be his level and get your own facility like this unless you've got something special. I wasn't trying to be insulting. What I mean is, does he always get so uncomfortable around strangers? He couldn't wait to get away from me. He clearly doesn't want me here."_

_Lucrecia looked embarrassed. "He'll come around. He wasn't comfortable with me either, at first. He just has trouble adjusting to change."_

"_Not good for a scientist." Grimoire slapped his hands together before she could protest. "So, shall we get this show on the road?"_

_Several levels below them, Hojo felt as if he could breathe again. Jenova stared sightlessly down at him, bubbles flowing upward around her from the aerating apparatus. He met her dead-eyed stare and felt whole again. _

_WATCH HIM._

_The thought arrived in his mind fully formed. It could have been his own. Maybe it was. _

"_I know," he murmured. _

_HE'S DANGEROUS._

"_I know!" His teeth squeaked from gritting together. Grimoire Valentine would not get the drop on him. Hojo wouldn't let anything interfere with his work. No, no, no, he most certainly wouldn't._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued ….<strong>_

* * *

><p>.<p> 


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